From the Cup of Duty
by LadyExcalibur2010
Summary: Edward is a ruler in need of an heir. Isabella Swan comes from fruitful stock. A marriage made in heaven, right? Well...not quite yet. Sometimes duty brings an unexpected gift. Rated M for future lemons.
1. Chapter 1: An Alternative

I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephenie Meyer. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

_**Author's Note: I've always been enamored of history and let's face it, the name Edward just screams REGAL! So, here's a little plot bunny that found its way into my head. It won't be long, between 10 and 20 chapters. It's just for fun and not intended to be taken seriously in any way. Mostly, I just like to imagine Edward wearing a cod piece. :p So consider this a guilty pleasure.**_

**From the Cup of Duty**

**Chapter 1: An Alternative**

"You need an heir," my mother stated quietly.

I looked to my chief advisor and the look on his face was just as stern and uncompromising as that on my mother's face. Usually the most gentle of women, when she set her mind to something even the strongest knight had been known to quail before her. My father had said she was the most dangerous weapon in his kingdom – a keen, intuitive mind hiding behind a pretty face.

Once more, I missed my father desperately.

I scowled and stared at the table, wishing with all of my heart that I could avoid this conversation for at least another three or four years. I had been crowned two years ago and my mother was becoming restless, as were my people. I knew that because Carlisle had informed me of that fact that very morning. His words has been as blunt as they were unwelcomed.

"Your people want to see you settled," he said quietly. "They want a royal wedding...they want an heir in the royal cradle."

That was all very well and good for them to wish; they weren't the ones who would be saddled with a whey-faced noblewoman who had no interests beyond embroidery and gossip for the rest of their lives. My mother and Carlisle had been parading an endless stream of such women in front of me for two years. Princesses from foreign lands, heiresses from duchies, it didn't seem to matter. They all simpered and giggled and talked about fashion. Some of them hadn't even known how to read. I accepted that women reading might be a modern notion, but I demanded that my wife at least be literate.

My mother must have sensed my growing resolve to find a way out of my dilemma because she sat down and took my hand in hers. "Edward," she said. "You've done so well in your two years on the Lion Throne. I've been so very, very proud of you. You've continued your father's legacy of protecting your people, encouraging trade and prosperity instead of involving them in endless, expensive wars. That is to your credit."

I met her eyes.

"_However..."_ I should have known that there was a however coming. "You need an heir. Life is uncertain, and your people need to know that our line will continue to watch over them and protect them."

"I'm young yet," I protested. I was yet two years away from my thirtieth birthday. Surely I had at least a decade before I needed to-

"Even if your wife conceives right away, and you were married by the end of summer, it would be a year at _least_ before your child is born," Mother said. "Your people want and need this, Edward. I know you won't fail them. You never have." I was well accustomed to them reminding me of my duties. I'd grown up being reminded of my duties on a daily basis. For the most part, I could understand. But the idea of being bound to a woman I dislike for the rest of my life...

I glanced at Carlisle and he was merely waiting for my surrender. We both knew it was inevitable. "I've met all the appropriate royal and noble ladies," I mumbled like a petulant child. "And none of them suited." I grunted and settled lower in my seat as if I could escape my mother's eagle eye. "Besides, we're a small country, and though we have a strong economy, it isn't as if I can look too high for my bride. And thus far, no one who is suitable has much appealed."

My mother shot an amused glance at Carlisle. "That is true."

"Sire," Carlisle said tentatively. "If I might suggest an alternative to the candidates we have entertained in the past?"

I motioned him to sit and he did so, pausing a moment as if to gather his thoughts. "Sire...your lady mother and I have been discussing the situation." My mother merely shrugged when I quirked a brow at her. "We think that perhaps we have been approaching the problem from the wrong direction." Mother nodded.

"Go on," I said. Anything to avoid one of the women that had been brought forward for my inspection.

"Sire, one of the difficulties facing your family is a lack of male issue," Carlisle pointed out with less than delicate circumspection.

I sighed. It was true. I had been an only son, an only_ child_, as had my father before me and his father before _him_. We were not a prolific lot, we Masens. Legitimate children had been scarce, and bastards hardly more plentiful though there were a few. Even my mother, descended from a distant branch of the family, had no brothers or sisters still living. Each generation of the family seemed able to produce one child, perhaps two – and never more than one son in a generation. In a risky and dangerous world, that left our people in a precarious position and even I, who most longed to deny it, could not escape that fact. My people needed the reassurance that came from having an heir from the house of Masen, _their_ house, their ruler.

"Edward," Mother said. "Have you ever noticed that some families seem to thrive, to produce a bounty of children that not only survive, but go on to create their own flourishing families as well?" She paused. "Such families seem to have many branches, whilst our own house seems to have only the trunk, with little growth to be seen."

I nodded, having no idea where the discussion was going.

"A specific family has come to mind," Carlisle said. "He's a minor noble, a baron on the border lands." 

Mother smiled. "He rarely comes to court, and has not since you ascended the throne," she said. "So you've never met him. But his sons are legends in the joust, even the youngest, only fourteen, is a beast of a boy, requiring the largest of horses."

"I can hardly marry a lad of fourteen," I said with a poor attempt at humor. My mother sighed at my antics and suddenly I felt five years old again, called to task for misbehavior.

"This baron has three sons," Mother continued. "And a daughter."

It took a moment for me to comprehend what they were proposing. "Oh no, I won't marry some landless little nobody who is likely to resemble an Amazon warrior, Mother. And I most definitely will not be bred out like a stallion to a mare. I would do almost anything for my people, but not that. Please don't ask that of me."

"You have no idea what she will look like," Carlisle pointed out.

"I can only imagine," I muttered. "With three brothers who are reputed to be such warriors?" I shuddered. She would tower over me and pat me on my head while she talked about the latest court gossip. Imagining a lifetime tied to such a woman was painful and terrifying to say the least.

"Let me call the family to court," Carlisle advised. "You can at least meet the young lady. If you absolutely won't suit, then you won't suit. We will keep looking. But you must marry, Sire, and soon."

I got to my feet. I needed to escape the palace. I needed the fresh air in my face, the feel of a strong horse beneath me. "I'm going hunting," I said. "Do what you will."

Two months later, my mother was sitting in my chambers. We were playing cards but I was doing an abysmal job of paying attention. "The Swan family arrives tomorrow," she murmured.

"Yes, I remember," I answered. "How could I forget? Either you or our good Carlisle is constantly reminding me." My mother had the good grace to blush slightly.

"I think you will find the girl to your liking," she said.

"Girl?" I asked. "Exactly how old is she? I'm not taking a child to wife, and besides if I'm in need of an heir, it would do me no good to take a child. I've no taste for flesh too young to be called a woman."

"Rest easy son," Mother soothed. "She's fully sixteen years, soon to be seventeen."

"And no betrothal?" I asked with a snort. "You would have me take a girl no other man wants to wife?"

"There are many reasons for a girl to be unattached at sixteen," Mother pointed out.

"Such as?" I had my mother there, for most girls were betrothed by the time they were twelve and securely married before their fifteenth name day.

"Well, in young Isabella's case there was a betrothal," Mother admitted. "But he died three years ago and her father has yet to make another match for her."

I grunted and my mother gave me an admonishing look. "She'll need to use a war horse to get about the kingdom, so large and ungainly she'll be."

"You do not know that, Edward," Mother said with a sigh.

"You will see, Lady Mother," I promised. "Well, at least I shall be able to meet her under slightly less strained circumstances."

My mother had arranged for a masquerade ball to welcome the border barons' families. In order to disguise our intentions, several of the border barons had been invited, though I had sent men in their stead to guard their lands. It would have been foolish to leave my borders unguarded. Besides, I had hopes that the barons – and their daughters – would soon be sent home.

"Just promise me that you will give the girl a chance," Mother said softly. Her hand was on my arm and she smiled. "For the sake of your people, I would like to see you with an heir. For_ your_ sake, I would like to see you happy."

I sighed. "Very well, Mother. I shall try." It was the best I could do. Besides, my mother was right. I had to marry. I needed to get myself an heir. No matter how distasteful it might be, the time had come to marry and try to plant my seed in fertile ground.

It was my turn to drink deeply from the cup of duty, and I could only pray to the gods that the brew would not choke me.


	2. Chapter 2: At First Sight

I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephenie Meyer. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

_**Author's Note: I realize that the idea of a 28 year old man and an almost 17 year old girl is kind of...gross. But considering the time and the customs, I felt it was entirely appropriate. Royal marriages especially seemed to take place with little consideration for the ages of the couple. Though not a "royal" bride at the time, Margaret Beaufort, the mother of Henry VII, was married at age 12 and gave birth to her only child at 13, and several months after her husband died. If I had set this story in modern times, I would never have used these ages. However, a woman in her twenties and unmarried in this society would have been too much of an anomaly for the story. Also the speech patterns will be somewhat antiquated, but not entirely accurate. It is a fine line to walk between authenticity and making a story accessible and understandable to a modern audience. I shall endeavor to do my best, but I would not claim that everything our characters say will be couched entirely in the vernacular of the time. And now, let's meet Isabella, shall we?**_

**Chapter 2: At First Sight**

I watched from behind a screen, for my plan was to allow the room to get full before I slipped out and blended into the crowd. I adjusted my mask and wondered which among the growing crowd would be the redoubtable Baron Swan and his veritable litter of sons. Though, in truth, I did envy him that certainty of knowing his line was secured. There had been a Masen sitting on the Lion Throne for the last 278 years, but there had been times when it had been a near thing, the dying out of our line. Perhaps Carlisle and my mother were right; maybe I did need to look at my potential wife's ability to bear me an heir. There were no guarantees, of course. The gods alone could give or take life. Still, it bore some consideration. When I bred a stallion, I took a close look at the mare's bloodlines and such. Was it really so different when it came to a wife? It sounded cold hearted, but no more so than marrying for a large dowry or a peace treaty. A king had to have sons no less than he needed coin or prosperity.

So I would at least consider this Isabella Swan and her promise of fecundity.

Carlisle was at my side to point out the prospective bride's family and when he did so, I was not surprised to find that I would have needed little in the way of help. Charles Swan was not so big as to attract undue attention. He was on the tallish side, and somewhat slender. The lady at his side, the Lady Renee, was small and curvy. It gave me hope that their daughter would not be some Amazon. Then I glanced at the sons and that hope vanished with a look.

There were three of them, Emmett, the oldest and heir, Jasper, the middle son and somewhat of a rebel according to Carlisle, and then the youngest, Jacob, who had already starting making a name for himself in the tourneys. I saw no other female figure with them until the behemoth Emmett moved out of the way. The small, slender figure at his side drew my attention. She was slim, but curved in all of the right places. Her slim figure came from youth. Her beauty came from her mother, though she had her father's dark hair. All in all, she was quite far from the warrior queen I had imagined.

"That's Emmett, the eldest," Carlisle hissed in a whisper. "He was married last year and his wife presented him with twins just a few weeks before they left Swan Castle to journey here. Emmett has a son and a daughter at the age of twenty and three." Carlisle added with a sniff.

Immediately I felt guilty and inadequate, which was precisely Carlisle's intention. A mere baron's son had managed to do what I had not. He had secured his line. I wondered what Charles Swan felt when he looked at his three strong sons, and now a grandson. What must such certainty feel like?

"Jasper there has been the target of many a young maiden's interest," he added. "But so far, Jasper has avoided any entanglements." Lucky bastard, I thought. With an older brother and a nephew, he would be under no pressure to marry and produce a son.

"Yes, yes," I answered. "But what about the girl?" Surely Carlisle would realize that I had no real interest in the sons of Charles Swan when I was being urged to marry the daughter?

Carlisle heaved a sigh. "Well, as you can see, she's no giant," he pointed out dryly.

"Yes, but what is she like?" I asked. "Does she like to read?_ Can_ she read? Does she prefer the outdoors or to stay inside? Does she like to ride? Is she kind? Does she even like children? That would be a fine thing, to give me children and then not like them." I stared at her, trying to find the answers to the endless stream of questions I had about her. My own childhood had been privileged but happy. My parents had loved me deeply and had been involved in my care in a way that was rare in a royal household. I wanted the same for my own children, if I was blessed enough to have them.

"Then you shall appoint a very good nursemaid," Carlisle replied smoothly. "She needn't be fond of children to give birth to them."

"I should prefer if the mother of my children at least like them," I muttered. "If I must be tied to her for the rest of my natural life, I should like it if I could at least respect her. I'm not expecting love, that would be too much to hope for in a marriage, but mutual admiration would be preferable to disdain and dislike."

Carlisle sighed again and I watched as his eyes found my mother. A sudden suspicion bloomed in my mind. Surely not...

I looked at my mother, realizing for the first time that though she was past bearing a child, she was still a lovely woman...for her age. Her age was comparable to that of Carlisle. He had come with her retinue when she arrived in Voratania to marry my father. While my parents' marriage had been no love match, they had had a genuine affection and regard for each other. She missed him when he died, and if my father had believed in love for a spouse, I felt sure he would have loved my mother.

Carlisle must have sensed my perusal, because he cleared his throat and looked away. "Yes, well...there is the young lady."

I straightened my mask. "I think it's time I mingled with my people."

He gave a little snort of laughter and bid me good luck.

I walked easily among the crowd. Some of them recognized me and some did not. I had covered my rather unique hair (and the bane of my existence) with a turban of sorts. A mask hid the upper half of my face, leaving only my mouth free of obstruction. Slowly, I made my way toward where I could see Emmett Swan towering over the rest of my guests. I could only hope that his sister would be with him.

I was doomed to disappointment.

I greeted the whole family, still not revealing my identity. Since none of them had ever met me, I had no reason to think my disguise was compromised. After a fruitless search around the room, I made my escape to the garden, breathing a sigh of relief. The air inside had been hot and stuffy, the result of too many bodies pressed together and some of them not at all attentive to bathing. Perfume, I wanted to tell them, did not cover up the stench of an unwashed body.

I turned a corner, intending to find refuge in a little used courtyard, when I ran straight into the object of my...intentions. "Oof," she muttered. I took her shoulders in between my hands and steadied her. I expected her to castigate me for my clumsiness and hurry. Instead, she took a step back and blinked up at me with wide, dark eyes.

"I'm so sorry, sir," she hastily explained. "Perhaps I am not supposed to be in this part of the garden?"

"No," I said. "I mean, yes, that's fine. It is I who should apologize, and I do so most profusely." I bowed gallantly. There was no time like the present to begin my pursuit.

She laughed softly and covered her mouth with her hand. "I must say, you display the courtly manners quite well. I'm sure your king would be proud of you."

I wanted to laugh then too as I realized she had no idea who I was...or that I was fairly certain that I was going to marry her. Strange, what had been a vague idea before I walked into the garden had almost become a plan, a definite intention. When had I made my choice?

"I am not sure of that," I admitted.

"Oh, I hear he is most gallant," Isabella said. Suddenly, I was anxious that I had gotten her name wrong. I was almost positive that Carlisle had called her Isabella. But what if it had been Isabeau? Or Isadora? No, I was quite sure that it was Isabella. Almost positive.

"What else do you hear?" I asked. Somehow, we were walking into the garden together, though I noticed that she remained on the lighted path now, the flickering flames of the torches lending a golden glow to her fine features.

She shrugged, the gesture dainty and ladylike. "Not much, sir. I'm quite new to court. I only arrived this morn." Her dark eyes shot up to mine. "My lady mother seeks to make me a match whilst we are here."

"Ah, yes, well court is the place to find a husband," I said. She was seeking a husband. I was seeking a wife. So much the better. At least her mother would be quite pleased. I was sure the Lady Renee had imagined no one higher than a baron for I could not see that this young girl would have much of a dowry. She was pretty, beautiful even, but such things made no difference when arranging a marriage. A man looked for a woman to enrich his purse, expand his holdings...or to give him a son.

"Think you I will have success?" the girl asked with a little smile.

"I would lay odds on it," I replied. In fact, she had already succeeded; she just did not know it yet.

"I would introduce myself, but I am afraid that would be considered terribly forward," she said quietly. "I would imagine your rank is higher than mine, and so I shall wait for my betters to lead the way as my mother instructed me to do." She seemed amused by the strict etiquette of court and I could only agree with her. It was a burden I had born my whole life. Most of the time I was barely aware of it any more.

I nodded. "Yes, well, there are many rules which govern our behavior," I admitted. "So, as I should, I shall perform the first introduction. I am Edward. And you are...?"

"I'm Isabella," she answered and I felt a little breath leave me in a rush. I had remembered it correctly then. That seemed a good omen. "Edward? You are named after the king, are you not?"

"There are many of us running about," I told her, which was the truth, though they were named after me and my father rather than the other way round. It was fashionable to name a son after the sovereign, though in truth I grew quite tired of bumping into Edwards everywhere I turned.

"Ah yes, I'm sure it's considered quite stylish to name sons after His Majesty." She shook her head and stopped to admire a rose. "The gardens are quite lovely."

"My...queen tends them diligently," I said.

"I love gardens," Isabella said. "Though I confess that I kill more plants than I nurture. I was the despair of my mother when it came to teaching me herbs and such."

I had to laugh at her rueful confession, for she sounded as if she was confessing to some great, private shame. "I shall tell no one," I assured her. "So tell me, with whom did you come to court to catch yourself a husband?"

"I said my mother wanted to secure a husband for me," Isabella corrected. "I did not say I was in any hurry to do so myself."

Well, that might be a little problem I admitted. I had not ever thought that my prospective bride might not be thrilled to marry. How odd. How...interesting.

"Why not? Don't you wish to marry?" I had to know.

She moved on again, moving toward a large, ancient tree. She reached out to stroke the bark with a gentle hand. "Not particularly," she admitted. "I am quite happy at home. I have my niece and nephew to love and my brother's wife and I get along quite well. I would be happy to help her manage his estate when the time comes." She smiled at me over her shoulder. "Ours is a happy household."

"What about children of your own?" I asked.

"Well, there is that," she said. "I do long for children. I grew up with so many playmates, not just my brothers but others as well. I cannot imagine living in a house without the laughter and sounds of children filling it up."

Something warm and soft unfurled inside of me at the same time something hot and hard pressed against my belly and filled my codpiece. This Isabella Swan was proving to be most intriguing.

She sighed and leaned back against the tree. "I suppose I shall have to marry so that I might have children." She smiled. "Society seems to frown upon doing so without the sanctity of marriage vows." She frowned then.

I had to laugh at the disgruntled expression on her face. "Yes, they do," I agreed.

"So I shall beg my mother to allow me some choice in the matter," Isabella continued. "He must be kind and somewhat intelligent. I would want him to be a good father to our children, as my father has been."

"Are you not forgetting handsome?" I teased.

She shook her head and her dark curls tumbled over her shoulders at the action. "No, I did not forget. I just do not care about that as much. Kindness lasts so much longer than beauty, don't you think?" She smiled. "If he is kind, then I shall be content."

I was enchanted and enthralled by this girl, who was a mixture of shyness and boldness and quite unlike any woman I had ever met.

"And what about his rank?" I asked. "Surely every girl wants a man of high rank?"

"My father is not highly ranked," she said and that was true. But most people in court would never admit it so baldly. "And my parents have been happily married for many years. I want what they have. I shall settle for nothing less."

"And so you shouldn't," I told her.

I heard some footsteps behind us and I turned. I wanted to groan my frustration. My time was never my own, and even my escapes were infrequent and of short duration. I nodded and waited for them to ruin everything.

"Your Majesty, your lady mother requests your presence for the unmasking and introductions," the guard said.

I bit my lip and looked at Isabella, who was staring at me with confusion in her lovely, dark eyes. "Your Majesty?" she asked. "You are Edward, the _King_?"

I nodded, watching with dismay as she stiffened and then dropped into a formal curtsey.

I offered her my hand and after a long hesitation, she took it. "Come, Isabella, let us answer my mother's summons. I would like to introduce you to her."

I knew that the moment I did so, the entire court would recognize that something significant was happening. I knew her parents would recognize that as well. However, I was fairly sure that Isabella Swan would have no idea that I was publicly stating my intentions by simply introducing her to my mother.

I could only pray she would forgive me.

Because there was no way in hell that I was allowing this girl to escape. I had to have her. It was an absolute imperative. Everything male in me cried out to everything female in her.


	3. Chapter 3: To be Wooed and Won

I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephenie Meyer. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

_**Author's Note: I wouldn't say the royal wedding really inspired this little tale. It was inspired by a combination of things. One, I cleaned out my closet and ran across a torrid romance I read years ago about a man in just the same position – needing an heir and a fruitful wife. I'm a sucker for literary junk food on occasion. Second, I watched "The King's Speech" and fell in love with Colin Firth all over again. And third, I was reading yet another biography of Henry VIII. All of that combined with the endless coverage of the wedding led to this story. Also, I won't be able to update daily. This is a fluke brought about my time off from classes and kids who are off doing their own thing for the moment. I go back to school on Monday and starting tomorrow, my schedule goes back to being full of activities. But expect an update at least once a week. I will add that this is a polytheistic society, which would have been different from most of the lands around it. I consider it an alternate universe in a way, but it is hard to explain. I'll have to ask for your understanding and patience on that, as it just seemed the way to go with it. Lastly, but most importantly, I've been shocked and humbled by the response this story has gotten. You don't know how much it means to me, especially since I wasn't sure it would get read at all! I think Edward in a codpiece is something we can't resist, right? So I'll thank Edward and that wonderful little bit of wardrobe. Or not so little, as the case may be. :p **_

**Chapter 3: To be Wooed and Won**

I was not surprised when the crowd grew hushed as they saw me escort Isabella toward my mother. I had removed my mask so that all would see my face and know who I was...and what I was doing. I did not bring women to my mother's attention. If anything, she brought them to mine. Repeatedly and in great numbers, and the whole process grew tedious after a while. Never had I taken the hand of a baron's daughter in public.

My mother started in surprise as she saw me coming and her eyes fell to Isabella. Later on, I would realize that of course my mother knew my intentions and thus could not mistake exactly what sort of declaration I was making. Her family had no way of knowing what I was about and a sovereign who lays any sort of claim to a young lady of good breeding, but not precisely suitable bloodlines should expect his intentions to be called into question. I, of course, was oblivious to all of that and I immediately assumed that her family would know my intentions were good and honorable. They, of course, should have known that I would certainly never bring a woman filling_ that_ role to my mother's attention. There was a lack of understanding on both sides.

At my side, Isabella was silent, her eyes darting first one place and then another. I saw her mother start to step forward and then her father taking her mother's arm and gently restraining her. She looked up at Sir Charles and he gave a short, swift shake of his head, looking quite angry which made no sense at all to me. Emmett looked at Isabella's hand in mine and frowned. Her brother Jasper was busy flirting with one of my mother's maidens and did not seem to care or notice what his sister was doing. Jacob was tugging at his collar and looking as if he only wished desperately to remove himself from the premises. Immediately.

Meanwhile, I was exquisitely aware of Isabella's trembling hand in mine.

"Lady Mother," I said quietly as Isabella and I drew near. My mother paused, gave me one sharp look and then smiled gently at Isabella. "May I present Isabella Swan?"

To my surprise, and Isabella's shock, my mother drew her close and gave her a quick embrace. My mother, though a warm woman, was always very aware of her station. She had to be. Yet here she was, embracing this baron's daughter as if she did such things every day. "It is a great pleasure to meet you, my dear."

Isabella curtsied, her eyes already seeking out her family. "The honor is mine," Isabella murmured.

"What think you of our court?" my mother asked.

"I must confess to being an ardent admirer of your gardens, as for court..." She shrugged and looked uncomfortable.

"Mother, would you introduce me to Baron and Lady Swan?" I could see them approaching from the corner of my eye. Her father looked apoplectic, her mother was only slightly less so. Her mother was recovering from her shock and I wanted to be nowhere in the vicinity when she found her tongue again. For whatever reason, they were angry and I could not fathom the cause for it.

"Sire," Charles Swan said with a nod of his head. Lady Renee drew Isabella off to the side and her eldest brother closed in beside her. I was effectively cut off from view. They had done it apurpose, I knew. Charles Swan swallowed hard but did not back down. "Sire, I would _humbly_ ask for an audience." He did not _sound_ so humble, but I was still puzzling over the rage I saw in Swan's eyes. Then, glancing around us, I understood. My attention to Isabella had not been subtle, but no one would believe that I was willing to wed with a baron's daughter and so immediately everyone assumed that my intentions were far less noble. Ah yes...the anger made so much more sense now. I would have to put that to rest if I was to gain the prize.

Those within ear shot began muttering at the man's daring, but I could only respect him. After all, he had no idea what my intentions were with his daughter. I would not have respected him if he had merely stepped aside and given me leave to do what I willed. A man had to have a care for a daughter, especially one as beautiful and innocent as Isabella. I glanced at the place behind Emmett Swan where I knew Isabella was. I wished keenly that I had had a chance to kiss her hand and inhale her sweet perfume again.

"Of course," I agreed graciously. I nodded to my mother, who silently let me know that she would attempt to keep peace with Lady Renee and her daughter. I had a feeling that my mother would find it a challenge but I trusted her skills in such matters.

I led Sir Charles to a small, private chamber and offered him some wine. He graciously refused, going to stand by the fire and warming his hands. "Sire..." He took a deep breath. "I hardly know how to begin. My father and grandfather and every generation before me has served your family faithfully." For a man who hardly knew how to begin, he was doing a stellar job of it.

Before he could say something that would humiliate him later to remember, I decided that it was time to intervene. "Sir Charles," I interrupted, and he had to let me have my way. I was his king, after all. There were certain privileges that came with that rank and I was not above using them ruthlessly in this matter. "I mean no disrespect to you _or_ your daughter."

"Sire, I hardly see how that could be so," Charles dared to say. "My daughter is not of high rank, but she is a well born virgin, and as such she has certain expectations of her station in life. She will make some lucky man a very fine wife...provided no one has compromised her virtue." At that, he gave me a pointed look. Suddenly, I was very glad that he was one of the men guarding our northern borders.

These northern men were bluntly spoken and not easily swayed or intimidated, I mused. Even the fair Isabella had been quite to the point, refreshingly honest in her opinions and speech. "I agree, Sir Charles. She has certain expectations and she should."

I could see his confusion. I poured myself a glass of wine. "My people have expectations of me as well, Charles. They expect me to provide them with a son, a son who will lead them when my time is done, a _legitimate_ son who will carry on the Masen name and give them security."

He nodded. "Yes, your family has led us well these many years."

He was not grasping my message. I sighed and sank down into a chair. "Alas, Sir Charles, it is much more than their expectations that weigh upon me. Duty, Charles, that is what I grapple with now. It is my solemn duty to provide my people with a queen...and an heir."

He had no idea where I was leading with all of our words, probably because he would have never guessed at my intentions. There was no precedent for him to do so, I admitted. "My family is a thin sapling compared to yours, Charles. You have three strong sons. You have brothers, your father had brothers, and your_ brothers_ have sons. You fill the north, you Swans. Every generation produces yet more sons to fill the land." I looked at him and grimaced. "_I_ need sons, man. I need strong healthy sons to fill the royal nurseries, _legitimate_ sons."

"I do not see how-"

I sighed and surged to my feet, strangely restless. "I need a wife who promises fruitfulness," I said pointedly.

I watched as realization came to him and he gasped and sank down into a chair without asking permission. I let the infraction slide, considering the circumstances. "Sire..."

"Your daughter...few could hold such promise as the mother of sons as your daughter, Sir Charles. I do not need bloodlines or land or even coin. I want...I _need_ sons."

Charles nodded and drank deeply of the wine I pressed into his hand, his fingers turning white as they gripped the goblet. "Sire, it is true that our family is a prolific one. There has seldom been a barren wife among us. In fact, I cannot recall the last time such a thing happened. I have four children, and my family is considered small among my brothers." He gave a rueful smile. "All of my brothers have sons, no daughters, or else I would advise you to look among them for your wife if you need sons so badly."

"Your daughter pleases me well enough." It was a lie only by degree. In fact, Isabella pleased me quite well indeed. I wanted to taste her, to explore the plump pink of her lips, to explore those curves I glimpsed beneath her gown. It would be no onerous duty to beget sons on Isabella. I was being given a chance that few in my position were given. I was actually attracted to the woman I hoped to wed. More than attracted, I already felt half-mad with desire for her.

Charles met my eyes and in them I saw a concerned father, not a dutiful subject. "Sire, she might be barren. I cannot make any guarantees, nor can she. You must know that you cannot be assured of sons." He grimaced. "It would be a bitter thing to know how deeply she had disappointed not only you, but the kingdom. I am not sure I want such a fate for my daughter."

I nodded. "If the gods decree it to be so, then I shall have to submit myself to their will. But I think you must agree that few hold the promise of fruitfulness that your daughter does." I smiled. "If I cannot get a son by her then I am certain that no woman in the kingdom could give me one." I was still certain however, that Isabella was the key to my most ardent desire and need. Sons.

Charles gave a tight smile. I could see that he did not care to talk of me getting sons on his daughter. He must even now be contemplating what I would do to her to get those sons. Sweet duty indeed. I tried to school my features into appropriate solemnity. I would have to give him time to come to terms with it all.

A knock sounded on the door and in walked Emmett Swan without even a word of asking permission. "What is happening, Father?" he asked, his eyes going from me to his father and back again.

"Your father and I were speaking about your sister," I said. "Business of the realm," I added, reminding him that I was still his sovereign.

"My sister is no whore to be spread out for some man's base attentions, even if that man be a king," Emmett stated baldly. Blunt indeed, these northerners. There were worse things than frank honesty, however, especially if I was going to marry into their family. A king was used to hearing lies simply because they pleased. Honesty was often more uncomfortable, but there were times it was necessary. These men, it seemed, knew no other way to be.

"I do not seek to dishonor your sister," I assured him. "I seek to make her my wife...my queen."

"The mother of your heir," Charles pointed out.

I nodded. "Just so," I admitted. I looked at Emmett. "I need sons. Your sister seems a good choice for a man who needs sons."

"She's not a brood mare, Sire," Emmett said hotly. The door opened yet again and in stalked Jasper Swan. Gods, did none of them have any sense of decorum or respect? Still, they were protective of their sister and daughter and who could argue them the right to be so?

"The king wants to marry our Bella," Emmett told his brother, giving him a nudge. Jasper's light blue eyes studied me with insulting thoroughness, from my fine leather shoes to the turban still fixed upon my head. He seemed to find me lacking. "He wants sons and thinks our Bells can give them to him," Emmett added.

Jasper shrugged and grabbed a goblet. "And what if she doesn't give you sons, Sire?" he asked languidly. The middle Swan son gave the appearance of laziness, but I sensed a lethal power coiled in him.

"Then I shall have to be content," I replied.

"Yes, but will you hold it against her? Make her feel a failure for something the gods have decreed?" Jasper pressed.

"I shall be disappointed, but I could never hold her to blame," I replied. "In truth, the fault might be in my own family. We are not a fruitful lot, we Masens."

Jasper laughed and nodded. "True, you do not even spread your bastards throughout the kingdom like so many nobles do."

"Jasper," Charles said admonishingly.

"Tis true, Father," Jasper insisted. "Perhaps he cannot get sons on our Bella." I was quite sure I should be insulted, but instead I fought the urge to laugh. The whole family was mad, and I found them all quite intriguing.

"I would like your permission to marry Isabella," I finally said.

Charles looked at his sons and gave them a smile full of secrets. "I give you my permission...to court her and try to_ persuade_ her to marry you, Sire. That is all I can do."

I could only stare at the man in shock. "Surely, it is up to _you_ to decide if-"

As one, all three of the Swans began laughing. Emmett clapped me on the back with great familiarity that I knew I should put in its place, but instead I merely allowed the contact. "Sire...believe me when I say... you shall have your task cut out for you. Father _could_ order Isabella to marry you, but she's as likely to remain stubbornly mute before the holy man as she is to follow orders if she takes it into her pretty head that she doesn't _want_ you – crown or no. If you want to wed her, then you must persuade her that she wants the same. You must needs woo her if you want to make her your wife."

"Woo her?" I hadn't had to work at persuading a woman since I'd had my first one at fifteen. Since that time, they had all fallen over themselves for the honor of being in my bed. Or against my wall. Or... I had been remarkably chaste for a man in my position and one who was not, as I had been told, ill-favored. Many women were more than willing to take me into their beds simply because they thought there might be some gain in it, coins or titles or even simply prestige. I was well aware of what a woman might see in me, and very little of it had to do with me as a person. And I had resigned myself to that.

In any case, the idea of actually wooing a woman to accept me was completely unexpected. A wife was an arrangement, not a lass to be enticed into an assignation. But the looks on their faces told me that they were serious. "I'm the _King_. You expect me to _court_ her?"

Charles gave me a grin. "Tis not what I expect, Sire, but what my _daughter_ expects." He put the goblet to his lips and drank deeply. He seemed amused and I did not care for it. "If you want sons from her, you had better be prepared to win her approval. The Swan women have hot blood, which can be damned inconvenient when they're angry." He smiled widely. "But tis a great comfort to a cold man during the long winter nights. Charm her; you have some skill from what the gossip says. Show her the respect you would any lady you want to take to wife. And when she accepts you, you may be sure that she'll make a warm bed for you. It won't be cold duty alone that gives you the sons you seek sire, but something better...something more." He put the goblet down. "I will tell her that you will call on her on the morrow."

They walked out, and then Charles called out over his shoulder. "She's partial to history, the color green, and puppies!"

The Swan men laughed and I could only stare after them. They were all mad. Surely no woman would refuse the courtship of a king?


	4. Chapter 4: Refusal by Any Other Name

I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephenie Meyer. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

_**Author's Note: One last daily update...**_

**Chapter 4: Refusal by Any Other Name**

She had refused me. Well, to be fair, I had not gotten close enough to be refused. Instead, I had been summarily dismissed by a _servant_. I could barely comprehend it as I walked back to my chambers. I had done everything correctly. Her father had informed her of my intentions. I had made sure that her family had comfortable accommodations. I had even sent over a beautiful and _expensive_ necklace earlier in the day. Any woman would have been thrilled to receive it. Anyone woman, it seemed, except Isabella Swan. I had learned that when I presented myself before the evening meal, trying to show her that I could be accommodating and was willing to indulge her need to be courted.

I had heard her say, "Tell His Majesty that I am indisposed and that I'm taking my meal in my room tonight." The serving girl had given me the message, her eyes unable to meet mine, and then quietly and obediently closed the door. Then it opened again and the servant pressed the velvet bag into my hands. "Milady says that it isn't appropriate for her to receive such gifts from a man that isn't her betrothed." Then the girl swallowed hard and slammed the door, as if overcome by her own daring.

I could scarcely comprehend what had just happened. On my way back to my rooms, I ran into Sir Charles, who looked at me in a disappointed manner. "You sent a necklace?" he said with a roll of his eyes.

"A valuable piece," I defended myself. "Any woman would be-"

"I certainly hope you would run a war campaign with more efficiency and intelligence than you do a courtship," Charles said plainly. "Did I not tell you what my daughter likes?"

"History, green, and puppies," I recited back with a snort. "Not a very helpful list to a man with courtship in mind." Mad, they were all stark, raving mad.

"Actually, _very_ helpful to a man hoping to win a maid's hand," Charles retorted. "Sire," he added belatedly.

I sighed and motioned him to follow me. Once inside my chamber, I poured a goblet of mulled wine and indicated he should do the same. "So tell me, Sir Charles, where did I go wrong with your daughter?"

"You tried to buy her," he said bluntly.

"I did no such thing," I protested. But I felt an uncomfortable pang. Was that what I had attempted to do?

"She's young, she's wild," Charles said. "She can be wooed by you, Sire, you have only to appeal to the woman behind the pretty face."

"So your advice would be?" It stung to have to appeal to this mad Northman in order to gain a wife. I could have turned my attentions elsewhere, but there was something about Isabella that called to me. I was going mad. I wanted to touch her, to taste her, to claim her in the most primitive ways. I wanted her beneath me, crying out my name. I wanted to spill myself in her sweet warmth. I _wanted_.

"Be honest with her," he advised. "She's no fool. She knows you cannot be in love with her, so sweet words of false affection will not move her. You don't know her, Sire, so how can you love her? Tell her what you told me; tell her your reasons for choosing her. She's a smart girl, and she's fair. She'll respect honesty more than false words, no matter how charming. If you tell her that you're willing to build a relationship with her, and mean it, she will believe it. She will give you a chance to win her hand. She understands that you have a responsibility to your people. She's been raised with the ideas of honor and responsibility and duty. She won't think ill of you, Sire. But with the honor must come honesty. If you lie to her, or try to court her under false pretenses, she'll turn cold and even if you eventually gain her hand, you'll lose her regard. Cold duty makes for an uncomfortable marriage bed, Sire."

"I shall think on all you've said," I promised.

That night, I did little else. I thought of Isabella and how best to win her. I wondered if Mad Charles was right. Was honesty the best way to win his daughter's hand? I was well accustomed to courtly games of love, but honesty tended to be short-lived at court. How odd to think that such a young woman would welcome it. How...refreshing.

I would be a most agreeable husband. Any woman would be quite fortunate to have me. I just had to get Isabella to realize that.

** ~Duty~**

Three days later, Emmett Swan rode up beside me on a fine piece of horseflesh. I noted that the beast was well taken care of, no whip marks or signs of cruelty. The horse, of course, was huge, as would be necessary for a man of his stature.

He grinned at me. "What did you do to make my sister so angry?"

I grunted, which was not at all regal and I found I did not care. "I talked to her."

"A great sin indeed, Sire," Emmett agreed with a snort of laughter.

I sighed, wondering if she had already told him and he just wanted to see if our stories aligned. "I informed her of all the reasons she should marry me." And I had. Simple enough. Except that nothing was simple when it came to Isabella Swan.

I had decided that Charles Swan's advice was simply too blunt and straightforward to actually work, so I had devised my own plan. The fact that I was now riding with only _Emmett _Swan as company was proof that my plan was less than successful.

"And what did you list as the reasons my headstrong sister should consider you for a husband?" he asked with a smirk.

There it was again – that maddening streak of Swan independence. It was no wonder that Isabella was more stubborn and recalcitrant than any other woman it had been my misfortune to meet. It had been bred into her.

I sniffed regally. "I merely explained to her that I was both rich and powerful, not to mention handsome and young and able-bodied." Emmett's laughter boomed out, making my horse shy momentarily. "Well, I _am_," I defended myself hotly after I had gotten my mount under control.

Emmett shook his head and gave me a pitying look. I was a king; I wasn't accustomed to getting such looks. I found it rather discomfiting. "Well, I think that this is going to take longer than we anticipated."

With that he wheeled his horse around and made his way back toward his father. A few moments later I heard more booming laughter coming from both of the Swan men.

I was starting to develop a real dislike for them. Either that or a growing respect. I could not decide which it was.

_**~Duty~**_

I laughed as the fat little bundle squirmed in my arms. I felt absolutely ridiculous walking through the castle with the pup in hand, especially since the little rascal seemed intent on bathing my face with his odiferous pink tongue. But if a puppy was what it would take, then that was what I would give her. Even if the damned thing pissed on me. I settled a stern look on the tiny canine, warning him with my eyes that I would tolerate no such nonsense.

I found Isabella in the garden and I promptly dismissed those around her. Her eyes were locked on the puppy and she barely seemed aware of the others leaving.

"For you, Madame," I said without ceremony and held out the puppy. I just wanted to be rid of the thing before it let loose with some sort of liquid, from one end or the other.

Her large, dark eyes were wide and then she grasped the puppy to her breasts and began crooning to it. He wriggled and writhed and generally made his glee well known. "Thank you, Sire," she said. "He's perfect." The look on her face was what I had expected when I presented her with jewels. Instead, she had turned up her dainty nose at the offering. But hand the woman a wriggling puppy and she turned all soft and warm. I was never going to understand her, but I had an inkling that I would very much enjoy the attempt.

She put him down to run around the garden for a bit. We watched him and then she turned to me and gave me a shy smile. "You've talked to my father," she said softly.

"Aye, I did," I said. Honesty, I reminded myself. "He told me that you like history, the color green, and puppies. Tis a rather small list, I'm afraid, but I shall do my best." I gave her a rueful smile. "I shall raid my library tomorrow to find something suitable as an offering."

She laughed then and we began walking, following the puppy. There was a long silence and then she asked, "I must ask, why me, Sire? There are dozens of women more suitable in your court alone and surely they must have trotted out princesses and duchesses and heiresses by the dozens?"

I smiled at her very accurate description. "Yes, they have," I admitted.

"So I must ask again, why have you chosen me?" Isabella's voice was soft. "I come from an old and noble bloodline, but not one that is highly placed or particularly powerful. We have always held your northern borders and done so faithfully, but so have half a dozen other families. We have no great wealth, though I am well aware that we are fortunate and never lack for anything we need. I'm no beauty, though my youth makes my face and form pleasing...for now." I was utterly enchanted that she saw herself that way. A part of me recognized the truth of her words, but I wanted to tell her that she was beautiful and that any man would be lucky to have her...even a king. "I asked my father, and he said that was for you to explain. So I'm asking you to explain it to me."

I stopped and clasped my hands in front of me. Better that than grabbing her and doing something precipitous. "Isabella, to be honest, I need an heir. I need sons. My family is dying out, and I owe it to my people to marry and provide them with an heir."

She blinked at that and then nodded. "Yes, I can see that." I breathed a sigh of relief and then reminded myself that she had not said she wanted to be the mother of those sons, just that she understood the need for them. "Your people want to know that they are safe, and that the Masens will continue to lead them."

"Exactly so," I said. "I need sons, but I want more than cold duty from my wife. In you, I suspect I can find what I'm looking for. You promise fruitfulness, your family is legendary in the North for producing healthy children, especially sons. But beyond that, I actually _like_ you. Do you know how rare it is for a man in my position to have any...passion for the woman he thinks to make his queen? Generally, it is a matter of treaties or binding kingdoms or even the need for coin that drives a king to take a wife. He just expects that he'll get heirs because everyone else seems to make sons. Why not a king, who needs them so much more? I dread the thought of binding myself to a woman whom I cannot even like. You know that marriages are matters of estates and dowries, of lands and treaties. But as for me, I am looking for two things in a wife. One, I seek a son. I will not lie about that. And two, I would like to wed with someone for whom I have a feeling of respect and affection at least."

She had been silent throughout my speech and I wondered if Charles had gotten it all wrong and I had ruined my chances with her. Surely all women wanted to be wooed with sweet words, whether those words were true or not? There was something else I could offer her. Might she feel the same in return?

"And there is one other thing," I told her softly. I took a step forward and she took a step back. I kept moving until her back was against a tree. I had to know. I had to find out if the fire I felt raging in my blood was true – and mutual.

"What is that, Sire?" Her voice trembled and I saw a subtle shiver run through her. Something in it called out to the male animal inside of me. I put my hands on the tree behind her, trapping her in the cage of my arms. I moved my head down until my lips were just a breath away from hers.

"I want _you_, Isabella. I want you with the fire of a thousand suns," I said. "I want to kiss you and taste you and fill you up." Blunt and dangerous words to a virgin, but perhaps I was as mad as the northerners.

"With sons," she said softly and perhaps a note of bitterness.

"With _me_," I amended. My lips touched hers and the fire ignited between us. I felt and swallowed her gasp and clutched her to me. I groaned at the feeling of her in my arms, the softness of her body pressed to mine, so exquisitely feminine, but not so dainty as to make me afraid to touch her. Whatever else might be between us or not, the passion was there. Even in her, I felt it singing, the wildness of it infecting our blood. She grasped at my shoulders and instinctively bared her throat for my kisses.

"Sire," she breathed. "Please..."

I knew not what she pleaded for, only that I was mad to provide it. My tongue slid inside her mouth as I savored her taste. I heard her give a little whimper and I knew I had let things go too far. Immediately, I halted my assault on her lips and merely held her, letting her wild trembling subside. "We have heat between us, Isabella. I would like to see if we can nurture that heat into something lasting."

She was silent and I wished I could read her mind. "Tis a better foundation for a marriage than any of our rank could expect," I reminded her. Then I pulled away and simply held her hand. The puppy whimpered at her feet and she let go of my hand to reach down and pluck him up.

"I must think on all you have told me, Sire," she said. Then she smiled as she briefly met my eyes. "But I appreciate your candor, Your Majesty. It bodes well for our future if we have one." She gave me a brief curtsey and excused herself from my presence.

I watched her walk away, my body hard and hurting.

"Isabella?" I called out. She stopped and turned obediently, her expression wary. I could not help but smile. "I hope that it has not escaped your notice, but my eyes...they're _green_."

She gaped at me for a moment and then turned sharply. Oddly, I found her annoyance attractive. I was obviously going as mad as the Swans.

_**~Duty~**_

Over the next few weeks, I gave Isabella small tokens of my growing affection. I gave her books, which proved to be a great favorite. I gave her flowers and ribbons and lengths of cloth to make new gowns. I did not give her jewels. We rode horses together, carefully chaperoned, much to my annoyance. I learned that she made a small, squealing sound under her breath when I said something that truly angered her. I hoped sincerely that our children would not inherit that trait.

We spent endless hours talking and laughing. She was remarkably reticent to speak of herself, a trait I found both charming and frustrating. The whole court watched my bumbling efforts and marveled that this baron's daughter seemed unmoved other than to smile at me on occasion. Her father encouraged my efforts, but refused to command his daughter to wed me. "It would do no good. She'll not open her mouth to take the vows until she's damned good and ready, Sire. I know my daughter. You're making progress. Just keep at it."

I felt as if I had been given a part in a play but not given my lines. I was at a loss. I was a king. When I offered my hand, a woman was supposed to be grateful, damn it all.

Eventually, her brother Emmett began his journey home, stating that he missed his wife and children and did not think it wise to keep a Swan out of the north for too long. Besides, he told me with a bit of unseemly disgust, he thought it would take me until his twins' second birthday to make any progress with his sister. I was beginning to fear he was correct.

Isabella sent him home with gifts for his wife, Rosalie, and their children.

"You miss them," I said.

Isabella smiled slightly. "They are family," she said simply.

"Tell me about Emmett and his Rose," I asked, more to move her from her sorrow than any true interest. I knew that he had married the daughter of a neighboring family, one that had recently changed hands from one branch to another. Because there had been no problems from that quarter, I had dismissed the matter from my mind.

"I was betrothed to Rose's brother, Royce. We grew up together and were all good friends," Isabella said a little sadly, and I vaguely remembered my mother mentioning a betrothed who had died but had had no idea how close the relationship had been. Did she love him? I had seen no indication that her heart belonged to another, but it was worrisome. "He died three years ago and his death left Rose without a dowry because another line of the family took the holdings and they did not wish to provide one for Rosalie. They allowed Rose to remain in the keep, looking after the children. Everyone expected that Emmett would set aside his betrothal to her, but he was adamant. My father knew better than to refuse Emmett and they married last year."

"Without a dowry?" That was unusual in our world. Even a baron's son wanted a dowry, no matter how modest.

She gave me a wry look. "You wouldn't get much of a dowry from my family, Sire," she reminded me.

I smiled and leaned down to give her a quick kiss. "You are all the dowry I require, Isabella."

I laughed at the bemused look on her face. I was starting to understand her, and I could admit that I liked to see her in the befuddled state I had been reduced to since clapping eyes on her.


	5. 5 Arrogance and Other Ways to Win a Maid

I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephenie Meyer. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

_**Author's Note: Ever After is one of my favorite movies...ever. That never came to mind writing this, but now that it's been mentioned I think that prince and this king could use some of the same lessons, LOL! I expect to update about once a week, probably on Sunday or Monday, but sometimes I get impatient and I will probably update more than once a week when I just can't stand it any more. THAT is why I don't get a beta. I'm much too impulsive to wait around and I fear I would try the patience of the most saintly beta. So any mistakes are my own.**_

**Chapter 5: Arrogance and Other Ways to Win a Maid**

"She evades me at every turn," I heard myself whining to my mother. "Any other woman would be thrilled to have me courting her, but not Isabella."

Mother laughed. "And now you sound like a spoiled child," she chided. "Perhaps if you had had brothers or sisters, you would be not be so unbearably arrogant now. A good rousing knock down in the nursery might have done you some good."

"I'm a king, Mother. Arrogance comes with the crown," I reminded her, smiling in spite of my frustration.

"You're spoiled," she insisted. Then she muttered something about arrogance coming from something far more common than a crown. "And the fact that Isabella doesn't throw herself at your feet can only increase my good opinion of her." Mother sighed and put aside her embroidery. "Really, Edward, I love you. You're my adored and only son. But your pride will not win the fair Isabella's hand."

"But it would be nice if she at least acknowledged what an honor I'm doing her," I grumbled, much in the matter of the spoiled boy my mother accused me of being. That realization did not enhance my mood.

"A sycophant would make a rather boring wife, don't you think?" Mother mused aloud. I snorted and turned to brood while I stared at the fire.

In truth, I thought I might rather enjoy Isabella at my feet, her eyes adoring and her mouth –

I groaned inwardly and tried to stop the barrage of images. I was not entirely successful.

_**~Duty~**_

I watched as Isabella danced with her brother, Jasper. Few of the other men were brave enough to ask her and she enjoyed dancing quite a bit. So it was left to her brothers and father to make the invitation. Charles would do so only with much grumbling. Jacob always seemed to disappear when it was his turn to escort Isabella. I danced with her as much as I could, but I had arrived late after attending to business with my advisors. That left Jasper assuming the duty much of this evening.

The middle Swan son had started making friends among the guards. Carlisle had even hinted that the boy had a natural commanding air about him and I was currently pondering the idea of offering him a place in the King's Guard – as a squadron leader if he proved up to the challenge. First, he would have to be a guard, which was no easy job. The King's Guards did not simply stand around in uniforms making sure the servants were doing their jobs. Besides, I knew that Isabella would appreciate having her brother close to her in court. It might influence her decision. It was at that moment that I realized I had allowed myself to lose all perspective in my pursuit of Isabella Swan. It went beyond blind lust or even a desire for sons.

I wanted Isabella to be happy.

_**~Duty~**_

Realizing that I was already halfway into being in love with the woman I wanted to make my wife should have made me happy. Instead, it terrified me. My father had made it clear that royal marriages were made to provide the things necessary to a sovereign – namely peace and heirs. "Falling in love with your wife is a luxury that kings do not have," he had explained. "You respect them, you honor them, and you protect them. A king is above the common things, and love the most expensive weakness a king can have." I had heard the words countless times in my youth; I could still hear my father's voice in my head.

My father had been firmly against involving his people in frivolous wars and had viewed marriages as a way to avoid that. He had also been adamant that it was the responsibility of the king to provide his people with an heir. War did not loom on the horizon for our small nation, so I had no need to marry a foreign princess in order to maintain peace. Trade was flourishing in our small country and the treasure was healthy due to my father's and grandfather's careful expenditures and commitment to peace. It was a tradition I fully intended to carry on and honor. My people were at peace and they were prosperous, I had provided for them in those ways. I did, however, need to give them a future king.

Isabella was the means to an end. That was all I intended her to be. If I deviated from that path, I ran the risk of giving her too much power over me. A king who was vulnerable put his people – and his throne – at risk. I had to guard my heart. I would give Isabella trust and affection and even fidelity, which was almost unknown for a sovereign. However, having seen her parents I knew she would expect nothing less and I could not fault her for that. Yes, I would give her all of those things. What I would _not _give her would be my heart.

I felt a little better once I had formulated a plan. I would still marry Isabella and we would do well together. We would build on the respect we had already formed for each other. Consummating the marriage would be my pleasure and hers too, I hoped. There was time enough for that, and I knew she had a naturally passionate nature. Eventually, soon I hoped, there would be children. That was, after all, the point of all of this madness. As long as Isabella welcomed me into her bed, I would have no need for a mistress. Such arrangements were always fraught with dramatic displays and they frankly smacked of disrespect for all the parties involved. No, there was no need to complicate my life further by breaking solemn vows. My needs were not so insistent that I felt compelled to spread my seed all over the kingdom. I had no desire to see if I could populate my land with bastards or discarded mistresses.

Our lives would be pleasant and quiet and normal, and our children would grow up in a loving atmosphere that would give them the security and firm foundation that any child needed, but that a royal child needed more than any other. I would respect Isabella but not love her, and she would do the same for me. We would reserve our love for our children, as was seemly. I would use my parents' marriage as my guide and surely Isabella would come to the conclusion that such an arrangement was best for all.

Of course, all of my planning was moot if I could not convince her to marry me at all.

I carried on in my bumbling attempts to court her. I took her riding and discovered she was an excellent horse woman. She did not like the hunt, but always hung back at the moment of the kill. She liked to read and had definite opinions on almost any topic I raised, including the topics of economy and the concerns of the average farmer. We discussed the role of women in the kingdom and their rights in our courts of law. She once called me a horse's ass and I laughed. That only made her angrier and she did not speak to me for a day. I finally apologized even though she was the one who had hurled the insult.

Wooing a woman like Isabella was proving to be far more frustrating – and fascinating – than I ever would have guessed. Still, she gave me no hint that she was prepared to become my wife and I wondered if I had been handed my first defeat as a monarch.

_** ~Duty~**_

To my surprise, a guard announced my mother and the Lady Renee were requesting an audience. Up to that point, I had had little interaction with Isabella's mother. I had come to know Sir Charles quite well. He had a tendency to show up in my chambers at the oddest moments, usually to lecture me about my behavior with his daughter. He felt no hesitation in pointing out my faults and mistakes with her, often making suggestions as to how I might finally achieve my goal.

I still thought him half-mad, but it was a madness I had come to respect. If the other men guarding the northern borders were anything like Charles and his sons, my kingdom was safe – from that direction at least.

"Mother," I said as I stood. "Lady Renee." The two of them exchanged a look and I suddenly felt very tense. My mother and hopefully future mother-in-law wanted to speak to me. That could not bode well, could it?

"Sire," Renee said with a curtsy. Mother motioned edgily for us all to sit and I did so. I might have been a king, but I was her son first and Mother knew it.

"Edward," Mother began. "I must tell you that I'm surprised more progress has not been made in your pursuit of Isabella."

I looked toward Renee, wondering what her opinion of my rather inept courtship might be. She just looked amused. It was the same expression Isabella often had when I started rambling on and on about some inane topic because there were times when Isabella made me...nervous.

"I thought we agreed, Mother," I said rather tersely. "I told you that I wanted to give Isabella time to consider the matter."

"Yes, yes, and that is all well and good," Mother agreed impatiently. "However, I think you should allow her mother and me to talk to her and see if we might persuade Isabella that this is a good match."

I huffed in surprise. How mortifying that my mother and Isabella's mother had decided that I was bumbling this so badly that they needed to step in.

"Sire," Renee said gently. "It is not that we feel you're not going about this the right way, just that I know my daughter."

"Please...enlighten me," I commanded.

"Isabella is loving and warm and generous," Renee began. "She is loyal and brave and has the kindest heart I've ever known. She's also as stubborn as a mule."

I wanted to laugh. I gave into the impulse. My mother's expression betrayed her lack of amusement at my own. Then a smile flickered on my mother's face. Renee beamed at us both. "I love my daughter, dearly." Renee tilted her head. "And if I wasn't truly convinced that you were her match, Sire, I must tell you that I would argue against this marriage."

That took me aback. Surely every mother wanted her daughter to marry well? And what made a better marriage than a royal one? She must have read my thoughts because Renee shook her head and gave a little sigh. "I want my daughter to be happy; she need not be a queen for that to happen. Better to be a cherished baron's wife than an unhappy queen. I've been a very happy woman, Sire, even tucked away in the northern wilds. It's not so much _what_ you have and _where_ you are, as who is there with you." She stood and walked to the fire, holding out her hands. "But the truth is that I think you can make my daughter happy in all the ways that truly matter, so I am willing to do what I can do move things along."

"And what would that be?" I had to ask. I had to know. This woman knew Isabella better than I could hope to, and I wanted her insight.

Renee just smiled enigmatically. She smiled a lot, I had noticed. She was either as mad as her husband or a truly contented woman. I wanted Isabella to smile like that...because she was happy.

"Just let me talk to my daughter," Renee said. "Your mother and I will both talk to her. And then, afterward, I think it might be best if you make a formal declaration of your intentions and ask her – formally – to be your bride. Give her a chance to say yes, Your Majesty, for she would never bring up the topic on her own."

"I will do as you say, Madame," I conceded. Anything to get Isabella in my bed – as my bride.

Mother gave a satisfied sigh of accomplishment. "Well then, Lady Renee and I will retire to my quarters to plan our strategy. I shall let you know when you should ask for Isabella's hand and see that you do so in a timely and charming manner, Edward. I won't have you mucking it up at the last moment."

_**~Duty~**_

Two days later, Renee pulled me aside. "Ask her tonight." That was all she said, and then she was moving away. I could only stare after her and wonder if, by the end of this day, Isabella would have agreed to be my wife. I could hardly dare to hope.

I spent the rest of the day restlessly pacing my chambers, forming and reforming the words I would use to ask Isabella for her hand. I would settle on a phrase only to discard it the next hour, convinced it sounded boorish and stupid. The servants avoided me as if I had the plague. Even Carlisle stayed busy with his affairs, conveniently unavailable for the most part.

I was on my own.

As the evening grew closer, I got more and more nervous. When and how should I ask Isabella? Would she really say yes as her mother seemed to believe? What would have changed her mind? They wouldn't have threatened her would they? Renee seemed a loving mother, but with a crown as the prize even the most loving parent might be tempted to beat a recalcitrant child into submission. I resolved then and there that there would be a stiff penalty to pay if such a thing had taken place.

I wanted Isabella, desperately and urgently, but I wanted her to want _me_ in return. Duty and submission and fear were not the foundations upon which I wanted to build a marriage.

_** ~Duty~**_

I had danced with Isabella twice, and I used the heat of the room as an excuse to ask her to accompany me to the gardens. I felt my palms grow sweaty and my heart began beating faster beneath my doublet. I was as anxious as a boy about to take his first woman.

We stopped by some of her favorite flowers, a place her puppy often marked as his own. She had named him, to his everlasting shame and my rueful chagrin, Sugar Bear. It was no name for a dog that would end up being the size of a small pony. I was fairly certain she did it to tease me.

"Isabella..." I began. I stopped, for my voice was husky and gruff. I cleared my throat. "Isabella, I think you know that I hold you in high regard." Her eyes were wide as she stared at me. "I have told you that what first drew me to you was your promise of fertility, but in all honesty, that is not what fascinates me now. I like your honesty and integrity. I admire your forthrightness and humility. I find myself enchanted with you on a very deep level, as a man is drawn to a woman. I find myself thinking of you every waking hour, and dreaming of you while I sleep. I want you, Isabella. I want you in my bed every night. I want to make children with you. I want to make love with you. I can promise you that I will give you respect and fidelity and affection all the days of our lives. I am asking you to be my wife...my queen." I abruptly knelt, something I hadn't done since my father's death. It did not feel wrong. I took her slender hand in mine. "Will you do me that inestimable honor, Isabella, and agree to be my wife?"

I held my breath. She tugged at my hand, indicating she wanted me to stand. That did not bode well, and I tried to still the panicked fluttering in my belly. "I will be your wife," she said softly. "And I will try to give you the sons you wish for so desperately. I pray that I can fulfill your hopes. I will be a good and faithful wife."

Perhaps they were not words of high passion, but they were enough. Isabella was going to be mine. I kissed her briefly and chastely and then slipped the traditional ring of a marriage promise on her finger. She stared at it for a moment, her expression bemused. "Tis rather large," she finally said softly.

"It's a rather large job you've signed on for," I told her just as quietly.

"That it is," she agreed.

My expression must have said it all because the moment we walked back inside, hand in hand, the buzzing began. I escorted Isabella to the small dais on which rested my throne and that of my mother. Soon, Isabella would take her place there and I knew my mother would be happy to assume a more private life. She had been waiting to do so.

I made my announcement with little fuss and no one was surprised. Except, perhaps, me. I had finally achieved my goal and I realized that, until that moment, I had not been entirely sure that I would. Isabella was going to drive me mad. I just knew it.

I could not have been happier.

_**One last note: Bella's conversation with the mothers will be covered in an outtake, in this thread, sometime soon. It's pretty much written, but I might not post it until I've completed the story. We'll see how long I can manage to hold onto it. My track record isn't good... Just saying.**_


	6. Isabella Outtake

I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephenie Meyer. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

**Outtake **

_**Isabella's POV**_

"So...what do you object to in my son?" the queen asked.

"He's arrogant," I replied immediately, for he was. Yes, he was handsome and charming. But did he have to be so damned sure of that? It was surely unfair of the gods to give a man so fair a face, a form that invited admiration, and a crown to round out his blessings. What mere mortal woman could withstand such a lethal combination of attractions? Still, I owed it to myself to try and sort out my feelings before I accepted his proposal. His arrogance, however, was going to be the death of me. Or him. Treason or not, Edward was pushing the limits of my control.

Her lips tugged up in a smile and she nodded. "Yes, well...he's a_ man_," she observed with a little shrug as if that explained it all.

My mother sighed and nodded her agreement. "By the gods, Isabella, there are times when I wonder that your father and brothers can sit a horse without the weight of their heads or their puffed out chests making them topple over."

I had to laugh at that image and I tried desperately to stifle the giggle. Fortunately, the queen shared a conspiratorial smile with my mother and so I assumed that I was to be forgiven.

The queen patted my hand. "If my son was not the king-"

"But he is," I reminded her stubbornly.

"_If_ he was not the king," she continued patiently. "But just some young man whom your parents had chosen for you during your trip here to court, would you still object to marrying him?"

I paused, realizing that the question was of vital importance. I had been brought up to be honest, even when the truth might harm my cause. The ideals of honesty and honor had been hammered into all of us from the cradle. "I do not know," I finally answered as truthfully as I could. My mother and the queen sat forward a bit, as if sensing there was more to my answer. "Probably not," I conceded at last.

For some reason, my answer made the two women smile and sit back with very smug expressions on their faces. "Thank you for being honest with me, Isabella," the queen said. "Now, aside from my son's obvious arrogance, and I'll warn you now that arrogance is a part of him and you'll never truly rid him of it, what gives you pause about this union? He's male and prone to such vagaries, though he would deny it hotly if you dared to venture that opinion so we must set that aside for now."

I had to smile at the loving vexation in her voice.

"So, apart from being quite male and arrogant, what do you object to in my son?" Her voice was gentle, inviting confidence.

I was at a loss. What _did_ I object to? His blithe assumption that I would fall into line with his plans was part and parcel of his arrogance, so in the interest of fairness, I had to put that aside, though it rankled to do so. His mad desire for a son? Once again, I had to be fair. He had been honest about that from the first. It was only natural that a man wanted a son to inherit what he left behind. Even Emmett had bragged until the rafters rang when Rosalie's firstborn was a son. He loved his daughter fiercely, but you could see the pride and relief when he looked on little Royce. He had protected his line for another generation. How much more ardent would that desire be for a man who had a kingdom to bequeath and a whole people to protect? No, I could not truly fault him for wanting a son. It was a natural desire and he had been open in his expression of it. I would not have believed him if he said he did not care about having a son, so I could hardly hold the wish for one against him.

I tried very hard to look at his behavior when we were together. He never demeaned me, nor did he act shocked that I both had a mind and preferred to use it. If anything, he encouraged lively discussions on a wide variety of topics. Yes, he often pricked my temper but I was beginning to suspect that he did so on purpose. He was unfailingly gallant and had made it clear to the entire court that he was indeed pursuing me for his wife and that he expected them to afford me respect accordingly. He treated my family with the utmost deference, even when they acted too familiarly. He did not play at being a king; I had seen him working hard and I knew the candle burned late in his private offices as he pondered the matters of a kingdom. I could only respect his reverence and dedication for his place. He had plundered his vast library for me, offering up bits of parchment and aged books like a farmer might offer a posy to a woman he admired. He had given me the most adorable puppy to ever decimate a flower garden and had personally arranged the right the damage that the little scamp did before his mother could see it.

In truth, he had been very fair and kind to me, even when I had been at my most contrary. I had pushed him time and time again, and yet not once had he been unkind or harsh with me. In fact, when I was at my worst, he seemed to be at his most chivalrous. It was true that he could have simply ordered me to marry him. A threat to my family would have solved the issue of my refusing to speak the vows easily enough and I suspected that he knew that. Instead, he had continued courting me with all of the honor he might have shown a royal princess. Never once had he made me feel as if I was unworthy of him.

My brothers insisted that the king had more in mind than simply getting an heir, they insisted he wanted me as a wife aside from the possibility of male issue. Emmett told me he thought the king was falling in love with me and that I could have him worshipping at my feet if I tried the least little bit. I was not sure I wanted a man worshipping at my feet. I would be happy to have one at my side, enjoying the give and take I saw in my parents' lives. I knew that my parents' marriage was an anomaly, and that most married couples merely made the best of things as they were expected to do. I wanted more. I knew better than to hope that I would love the man I married, but I most certainly hoped that I could _grow_ to love him, as my parents had learned to love each other.

He did not love me, but I knew he felt affection for me. Affection was a good basis for marriage, better than many couples were given. Affection could easily turn to love, if it were nurtured and cherished.

"Tell me, child," the queen interrupted my thoughts. "How do you feel about him.._.personally_?" I was not sure what she meant. Had we not been discussing that very issue?

My mother saw my confusion. "What the queen means is...does he make your blood run hot?" The queen's face erupted in a fiery blush, but my mother merely waited for my answer. She was as blunt in her way as the rest of us. While I was innocent, I was not naïve. I had some idea of what went on between a man and a woman. My notions were vague and somewhat confusing, but at least I was not completely ignorant. I had overheard enough of my brothers' conversations to be somewhat informed on the basics.

I thought of Edward's kisses and the way he pressed his body against mine and how I could feel his response, even through the thick layers of clothes. I remembered feeling hot and cold and shaky all at the same time when his hand brushed against the bottom of my breast. My breasts had ached for him then, a strange, dull throbbing that puzzled me. I wanted...something. I knew he could give it to me, whatever _it_ was, but it frightened me as well. I both yearned for it and ran from it, even as I wondered if he would gently initiate me into the elusive "it" that intrigued me.

"As your mother says, does he make your blood...run hot?" the queen said hesitantly. "Because if you find his touch repugnant, let us know now. We will persuade him to cease his pursuit of you. Now that I know he is amenable to marriage, even with someone from court, I am sure I can find a suitable woman to be his bride. I won't have you unhappy, child, no matter what my son might think." She gave a sad smile. "It is a terrible thing to be forced into a marriage when you know it is not right."

She would hand Edward over to someone else? For some reason, that made my stomach churn and my hands clench. No. Absolutely not. I scowled, unable to help my reaction and the two of them grinned at me as if they had been indulging in too much wine. "No, I don't find his touch revolting." Sometimes I wish I did. There had been moments when I had stared at his mouth and imagined the most decadent things, those perfect lips pressed to unmentionable parts of my body, parts that tingled with awareness of my indiscreet thoughts. No, finding Edward repulsive was not the issue.

"What gives you pause, child?" the queen asked kindly.

My eyes flickered to my mother, who merely nodded, telling me without words that I should be honest. "Your Majesty, I want what I see in my parents' marriage. They have something more than affection or respect. Such things are pleasant, of course, and certainly desirable over dislike and distrust." I sighed. "And I know that my parents' marriage was an arranged one, it was only happy chance that made it a love match in the end." My mother smiled and reached for my hand. "So while I do not expect that my husband would love me before we wed, I would like to think that there is a chance we could develop those feelings after, with time and care and good fortune."

"You think you could not love my son?" the queen murmured.

I decided to evade that question. "I think the question is whether your son could love _me_, Your Majesty."

The queen sat back and sighed deeply. "Isabella, I'm afraid that my son labors under some...delusions."

"Delusions?" The king was mad? That might explain some things.

"Well, his father had definite ideas about love and marriage and duty," the queen explained. She rose to her feet. "For now, I think it is best to let my son struggle with his feelings. He has ever been stubborn." She flashed a smile at me. "With Edward, it is often better if you allow him to come to his own conclusions, gently leading him when the time is right." She held my gaze. "That time is not yet right, but I say this with all honesty and care, Isabella...I do feel that the time will come when my son will not only feel everything you might desire a husband to feel, but that he will express those feelings openly and honestly."

That took me aback. "Truly?" It was true, that was the most secret desire of my heart. I wanted him to love me, to love Isabella the woman, not just the mother of the sons he hoped to have.

The queen nodded. "I will tell you something that not many people know, Isabella, because I already think of you as my daughter and I want you to understand why Edward thinks the way he does." Once more she sat down and gave a little sigh. "When I arrived in this country to marry Edward, _your_ Edward's father, he was already in love with someone else." My mother's expression was compassionate and she lightly patted the queen's shoulder. "He could not marry her, a match had already been arranged for her and she could give him nothing he needed for the realm. I was a distant cousin but I brought with me certain trade agreements that were desperately needed at the time."

"And_ you_, Your Majesty, how did you feel?" I asked. I could not imagine the pain of being given to a man who wanted someone else.

Her smile flickered. "I too was in love with someone else, though I was never bold enough to declare my feelings. I knew that we would never be allowed to marry, our stations were too different and besides, I had a role to fulfill for my own country. So, I married Edward knowing that neither of us loved each other." Her face was sad as she stared into the fire. "It was a good enough marriage, I suppose. Edward was kind. He was faithful, which was more than I expected. We had our son, and though we both wished for more children, Edward never blamed me, which he might have easily done." Her eyes flickered up to mine once again. "But something was missing and we both knew it. I'm afraid that my Edward decided that kings could not afford to love, because his own experience had been so painful. And he convinced our son of the same thing."

I sat back and took a deep breath. It all made so much more sense now. I nodded. "I see," I murmured.

"So you, my dear, must decide if you have the patience to coax Edward out of those mistaken beliefs, to show him that even a king is just a man who might give his heart to a woman," the queen said. "It will not be easy, and I am quite sure there will be times when you tempted to slip a bit of poison into Edward's cup. But I ask that you resist the temptation," the queen added with a twinkle in her eyes. "For I believe that if you are strong and patient, you could have the marriage of which you dream. I am asking you to be brave enough to marry my son...to love him, as I see that you do."

I gaped at her. I had not even been sure of my own feelings until that very moment. "I...I... Do you think he...?"

She grasped my hand. "He does not know. I think he wishes for your heart, though he does not even recognize his own desires. But I think with time, he will realize that he is only keeping himself from what he wants most by listening to his father's words. Please...I think you are exactly what my son needs. I_ know_ that you are exactly the person I want for him. So I'm asking you, as Edward's mother and not the queen, to consider marrying him."

She fell silent and I considered her words. It was true. I did love him. The realization caused a physical pain. What if Edward could never learn to love me in return? Could I live with that, having him so close and yet just far enough away from me to hurt? But what if I said no? Would I always wonder what might have been? Could I bear to think of him married to another? There was great risk with either path, but I knew I could not endure to lose him altogether, especially if I would never know if I might have claimed his heart if only I had been brave enough. A Swan never backed down from a challenge and neither would I.

"I'll marry him," I said abruptly. "But I do not wish him to know that I...that I love him."

The queen smiled serenely. "Of course not, my dear. A woman must have some secrets."


	7. Chapter 6: The Secret of Their Success

I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephenie Meyer. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

_**Author's Note: Someone had mentioned Edward's age and I just wanted to note that it was still rather common for a man to marry later than a woman. Not always, of course, but still very accepted. For Edward, there was the added challenge of having an ailing father and then ascending the throne at age 26. It's true that for the last two years he's been playing hide-n-seek with his mother's attempts to find him a queen. But as he said in the opening, they didn't suit. Our Edward has some rather definite ideas on the woman he wants to marry. Oh, and this is the 15**__**th**__** century, or thereabouts. I placed him in the time of Henry VII, and that Henry became king in the 1480's, so right around then. And I **__**did **__**warn you that I suffer from premature posting syndrome.**_

**Chapter 6: The Secret of Their Success**

The court astrologer was consulted and he declared that the most propitious day for our union was a mere six weeks away. My mother and Lady Renee immediately began frantic planning, while I could only think that it would be six long weeks before I could claim Isabella. My body began a subtle rebellion against me, reacting to Isabella's proximity without my permission. I knew that it was going to be a very, very long six weeks.

_** ~Duty~**_

Since our betrothal had been announced, I had been allowed more time with Isabella. Not completely alone, of course, but the _illusion_ of privacy was there. On this particular evening, we were sitting in front of the fire. I was bold enough to hold her hand in mine, even with my mother staring at us. My mother had given me a sharp look and then retired to the chamber which connected to this one, but she had left the door open. She could not see us directly unless she stood up and craned her head to the left, but I would be given no opportunity to do all of the things I longed to do. If holding hands with Isabella was pleasant, the thought of holding her in my arms was even more so. But my mother had given me a stern lecture on taking liberties with Isabella. What it had all come down to, in the end, was very much like the talking to she had given me when I had filched the stable boy's wooden boat when I was five. "Keep your hands to yourself," was what my mother was saying, though in much more refined language.

I knew that it was better so, but it still chafed. I was the king, after all, and if I wanted to spend a pleasant evening in the arms of a woman surely I had the right to do so. Then I glanced at Isabella's face and found myself ashamed. Isabella was no ordinary woman. She was soon to be my wife, my queen, and hopefully the mother of my children. For her, I could at least _attempt _to have some semblance of control.

I clenched my teeth and pretended that I was not longing to pull the pretty Isabella into my lap and plunder her mouth. Instead, I gallantly held her hand and talked of anything that came to mind. "What was it like growing up in the wild lands of the North?" I asked, tracing an idle pattern on her slender hand. She had beautiful hands, with long capable fingers, slender palms. I could almost imagine them wrapped – I swallowed hard.

"It was wonderful," Isabella said and I could hear the joy in her voice.

I glanced up at her, enchanted by her fine, dark eyes and the way the fire played on her features. "Tell me," I said.

"Always giving orders," she teased, but the set of her mouth told me that she was not truly displeased. She liked to gently tease me about my often imperious manner. "My brothers and I were always getting into mischief," she confided.

"You?" I teased back. "I thought that little girls were quiet and obedient and spent their days hunched over embroidery hoops and learning recipes for potions to help with stomach pains."

"Some girls might," Isabella replied. "But I preferred to climb trees with my brothers. Fortunately, my parents were patient with my need to explore. I was taught the household arts, but they made sure that other parts of my education were not neglected. I shared the boys' tutor."

"And _our_ daughters?" I asked suddenly, abruptly realizing that we would have to make some of these decisions together if harmony was to be kept. "Would you like them to share our sons' tutors as well?"

"Well, I'm pleasantly surprised to see that you've entertained the thought that not all of our issue will be male," she teased gently. Then she smiled softly. "I want them to be as educated as should any child, male or female," she answered simply.

I pulled her close, knowing that my mother would allow me to get away with that at least, and tried to ignore the way her soft breasts felt against my side. "I can see that I've gotten myself a female with some radical ideas," I said in a whisper.

"That you have," she acknowledged just before my mouth closed over hers. Gods, she tasted sweet. I deepened the kiss, barely resisting the urge to tuck her beneath me. I knew that if I did that, I would be lost. I would be tempted to get up and slam the door, lock it and declare anyone who opened it a traitor. I would have Isabella's gown up around her waist and I would take my time exploring the secret flesh that would soon be mine.

I felt her hands flutter around my shoulders and I heard her sharp intake of breath. I licked at her lips and she opened them further. I allowed my hand to move up her waist and rest just below her breast. My fingers twitched, longing to cup that softness. I heard my mother clear her throat. Damn, what good was being king if I could not do as I pleased?

I leaned my forehead against Isabella's. "I swear by the gods, Isabella, you make me forget my honor."

I sat up, and moved away from her – while I still could.

_**~Duty~**_

My mother and Lady Renee stole Isabella way from me. They had said something about seamstresses and gown and arrangements and Isabella had been as helpless as I was before their combined efforts. So almost as soon as I had gained a betrothed she was lost to me, in a manner of speaking. In truth, we had spent last evening and most of the day together, but that did not alleviate the desire I had for her company now. I was feeling rather put upon when I heard my door open. The guards no longer bothered to challenge him and I had heard them exchanging dirty jokes only the day before.

Charles Swan settled in beside me as I stared morosely into the fire in my chamber. I had rather hoped that I would spend the evening with Isabella in my arms, and begin my gentle introduction to the art of love. She would be a virgin on the day I married her, but I saw no reason not begin our mutual explorations.

So I was brooding, but most regally of course, as befitted a man of my station.

"You might as well resign yourself to only catching glimpses of your bride until the marriage day," Charles said.

I grunted a response to that. I was not quite done with my sulk.

Charles laughed. "Women love nothing more than a wedding, Sire, and when you add a king to the mix and the daughter of an unknown baron from the northern border, the excitement just might cause them to swoon." Then he smirked. "Not that _Isabella_ is much inclined to swoon, thank the gods."

"I wouldn't know," I muttered petulantly. "They've stolen her." There. I had said it. It occurred to me that I could simply order her back into my presence, but somehow that did not seem satisfying.

"Sire," he began.

I huffed. "And that's another thing, Sir Charles. I find myself growing weary of hearing Sire in that tone of voice. If you're going to scold me, at least do me the respect of addressing me by my name, and certainly when we're in private. It ill-suits me to hear you castigate me like I'm a boy barely in breeches all the while grinding out the word sire between your clenched teeth. By the Seven Hills, I'll be marrying your daughter soon and it just seems awkward to be throwing sires and your majesties around like sweetmeats."

"As you wish...Sire," Charles added with a grin.

I rolled my eyes at him. There would be no reasoning with Charles Swan when he was in such a mood. I could definitely see where Isabella had gotten her contrary streak. "Will Isabella remain as stubborn and independent as she is now?" I had to ask.

"It will probably get worse," Charles admitted. "Now she's just a girl really. But give her a few years, let her grow into her own talents and wisdom, and you'll have a formidable queen on your hands. I think that only be to your realm's good. A strong leader is beneficial, but two of them working together? I think we are in for a rare time of prosperity as a nation, Sire...Edward, if you have the good sense to listen to her." Then he chuckled as he poured me a goblet of wine. "Of course, I think my daughter will provide endless amusement to your courtiers too. They have never seen a female like my Bella before. I almost wish I could remain here to enjoy the festivities."

"Have you sent a message to Emmett?" I asked. I was trying to ignore my body's response to what I imagined some of those "festivities" might include. Me, Isabella, a warm fire, a large bed...

"By your fastest messenger," Charles replied.

"Good, the sooner we can get them all here the sooner she and I can be wed." And bedded, I thought. Thoroughly and repeatedly bedded.

_**~Duty~**_

I was once more alone, my bride whisked away by giggling maids and under the stern eye of my mother and hers. Renee and my mother had become quite close and I was not sure that was a beneficial state of affairs for me – or Baron Swan for that matter. But short of ordering Lady Renee back to the border, there was little I could do. I was man enough to admit that Lady Renee intimidated me a bit, but King Edward would never voice such a heresy.

I was enjoying some wine and good conversation with Isabella's father, but I could sense the man had something weighing on his mind. He would have to work it out in the clever mind of his before he voiced it, so I let him to it. Isabella was the same way, often almost driving me mad with worry and frustration until she finally spoke of whatever troubled her. Usually it was something so small and insignificant that I was tempted to shake her for scaring me so unnecessarily. Instead, I just soothed her with tender words and kisses. I was discovering that the idea of becoming a husband had lent a new dimension to my feelings and interactions with Isabella. I was not sure I liked it.

Finally, Charles looked at me and said, "Sire, I would like to give you the secret of the Swan family's successful breeding of children." With that, he handed me a small square of parchment. I took it eagerly. Perhaps my wife would have to face North whilst I-

I stopped. And stared. And read. Then I laughed. "A fine jest, Sir Charles, but this is nothing more than a recipe for some potion." I snorted. "If your gout is bothering you, my mother has been fine potions to offer."

"Aye, it is a potion," Charles replied solemnly. "But...this one is for bearing live children and maintaining your wife's health."

"What do you mean by this?" I held up the parchment.

He sighed and rubbed at his face. "Sire, how often have you heard of some poor lass dying upon the child bed?"

Too often, I wanted to reply. Yet here I was, ready to risk his daughter's life for the sake of an heir. I could only remain silent. "Year after year, a woman is brought to bed, only to weaken herself with the effort. In the end, she loses her life in the pursuit, often taking the child with her. A man's greed for heirs slowly killing the woman legally and morally bound to provide them."

"Tis too often the case," I agreed. I had considered that as I made my plans. I had even come up with a solution of sorts. I had no desire to squander Isabella's life away on a childbed.

"Tis what happens when a woman is not given time to recover in between pregnancies," Charles said fervently. "This," he pointed to the parchment. "This is a recipe to prevent conception so that our women have time to regain their health between pregnancies. You think it a coincidence that my children are three and four years apart or that my wife is healthy and happy?"

I paused. I had considered my bride's health and had resigned myself to the fact that there would be long stretches of time in which I would have to either deny myself her bed or spill my seed on her soft belly. Neither option appealed to me much, but neither did the idea of Isabella dying in childbirth, or becoming old and worn out before her time. As her husband, it was up to me to safeguard her health from such tragedies. What I held in my hand might present another path and my hand trembled with hope. "Truly?"

Charles nodded, smiling slightly now that he could see I would be blathering no nonsense about not interfering with the will of the gods. "My mother gave the recipe to Renee as it was passed down to her by my grandmother. My lady wife has given the recipe to Isabella, who has given her solemn promise not to use it until after the birth of your first child. Together, you two will decide when it is time to have a second child, and so on. Sire, believe me when I say that doing so will only better your chances of having a healthy child...and wife. Giving a woman time to recover between pregnancies is not only helpful to achieving a healthy child, but it is the kindest thing to do."

"I believe you, Sir Charles, and I am grateful," I told him. "And Isabella is agreeable?"

"She is, Sire," Charles said.

"Then I thank you, sir, and I give you my word that we will make use of your potion so that your daughter might be, as her mother is, healthy and happy."

"The potion takes a moon cycle to prevent conception, so you shall have to...avoid planting a babe in some other way." He shifted uncomfortably. So did I. "And it seems to work for another moon cycle after the woman stops taking it, so don't get impatient," he warned.

"I will be patient," I promised him, and suddenly I was not just speaking of conceiving a child. I was telling him that I would be a patient husband to his only daughter.

"See that you are," Charles replied in a gruff voice. "See that you are."

Charles nodded and cleared his throat and I knew we understood each other. Then he smirked. "Oh, and...Edward? I do_ not_ have gout." He grunted loudly as if the insult was more than he could bear.

_**~Duty~**_

Emmett and his wife had arrived, along with their twins. I had heard, though of course I did not indulge in gossip, that Rosalie had absolutely refused to leave them behind and had remained on horseback with the babes and their supplies in a small wagon behind them along with a nursemaid. She had refused to move until Emmett agreed to allow all of them accompany him back to court for the wedding.

Rosalie Swan was tall for a woman, and exceptionally lovely if a man favored blondes. I had always thought I preferred light hair but I had come to discover otherwise. I had thought that perhaps Isabella had overstated her fondness for her brother's wife, but I quickly seen that was not the case. The moment Rosalie arrived, she and Isabella had disappeared with the twins. I was given a look at two very healthy and chubby infants, and was briefly introduced to little Royce and Anna. The children grinned at me and tried to grab at my tunic with their fat little fingers. Then they were gone, as was their aunt.

Once more, my bride was plucked from my grasp. I was beginning to tire of that state of affairs and finally, the night before the wedding, I decided that I had had enough. The court was packed and anyone who had the slightest connection had arrived in the capital city for the occasion. We had been feted and celebrated and honored until I felt I was going to go mad.

While a grand dinner was in full swing, I tugged at Isabella's hand and led her into the gardens. I had chosen a secluded spot and I had given my guards the warning that anyone who dared to disturb us was going to find themselves facing execution. Or at least a very stern and royal tongue lashing.

Isabella giggled as I pulled her behind a tree. "How much wine have you had?" I asked, enjoying the flush of her cheeks and the feeling of her body pressed to mine.

"I forget," she confessed and then laughed. Of her own volition, she put her arms around my neck. "Your eyes are very green, Sire."

I had to smile because she was slurring her words just slightly.

"It's so kind of you to notice, but please, I thought I told you to call me Edward," I murmured. I gave thanks for the current fashion that called for sleek gowns that fell in soft folds around womanly curves.

"I'll call you Edward," she promised. Then she kissed me very lightly. "Tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" I asked, my lips barely touching hers.

"When you're my husband," she said shyly and began to pull away. I laughed and tugged her close again.

"Oh no, you're not getting away that easily, Isabella." I kissed her forehead and then her cheek and finally the tip of her nose. "I'm the King, and I want to spend time alone with my bride."

"You're quite arrogant," she informed me but her tone was amused.

"So I've been told," I admitted. I allowed my hands to drift down her back and I briefly entertained the thought of cupping her backside in my hands and pulling her hips toward mine. Sanity prevailed at the last moment and I gave a regretful sigh. Tomorrow night, I reminded myself.

"I imagine that you were a spoiled boy," Isabella whispered. "Always getting your way."

"Yes, until you came along," I told her.

Her lips quirked. "You still got your way; it just took longer than you anticipated."

"Too long," I said. "I'm mad for you, Isabella." I nuzzled her throat and wished I dared to move the shoulder of her gown out of the way to continue my exploration.

She leaned away from me, her expression cautious. "Mad for sons, perhaps."

I shook my head. "It began that way, I confess. But now? Oh, Isabella, the thought of removing your gown and finding the sweet flesh beneath makes me crazed."

Her breath was coming faster and I could only imagine how she would look in our bed, her breasts heaving and her skin flushed with passion. "You still want sons, though."

I could see that I had to reassure her on some things, and I was more than ready to do so. "Yes, I'm a king and a man. It is only natural that I want sons. But I want you, Isabella, just as much as I want sons. I want your body; I want to share my life with you. I want you to be happy and healthy and have everything your heart desires." I let my lips drift to her ear and gave the soft flesh of it a little nip. "I would lay my kingdom at your slender feet if that was what your heart desired."

"What I want is something far simpler, but far more valuable," she whispered.

"What is that, love?" I was curious, because Isabella asked for so little. It was most frustrating at times. I had so many_ things_ to give, but all of my possessions left her cold.

"Never mind, Sire," she answered. "I will tell you when the time is right."

I stared at her and I saw immediately that she would not be moved on the issue. "All right," I conceded. "When you're ready."

"For now, I'd like to practice," Isabella confessed shyly.

"Practice what?"

She looked around as if expecting courtiers to be staring at us. "Kissing," she finally said with the air of someone admitting to a grievous fault. "Tomorrow, we have to kiss in front of everyone and I'm feeling rather anxious about the whole affair."

I wanted to laugh, but I could tell she was absolutely serious. "I think I can arrange some practice."

I lowered my mouth to hers and lightly grazed her lips. "That...that is a public kiss." She looked rather disgruntled, so I put my mouth on hers once more. My tongue slid between her lips and touched hers and she moaned. Before I could consider the consequences, my hands had clutched her to me and my hips were moving against hers, pressing my cock against her. She startled and tried to pull away by wriggling within my grasp.

"Oh, my sweet little love," I groaned out. "Please...just don't move for a moment. I won't be able to bear it if you move."

She went utterly still, which was the only thing that saved me. I leaned my forehead against hers. "I think it is a very good thing that the wedding is tomorrow," I told her.


	8. Chapter 7: Wed and Bedded

I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephenie Meyer. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

_**Author's Note: Uh oh, premature posting. I told you I had a problem! Now, onto other things... A number of plants **__**were used as birth control methods in Medieval times. Queen Anne's lace was a popular one, later studied by scientists in the 1980's who found that it was effective in mice for inhibiting the growth of the ovaries and fetus. Other contraceptive plants included myrrh, rue, willow, date palm, cabbage, pine, onions, acacia gum, and the skin off a pomegranate. Such potions existed, but how effective they were remains mere speculation. :p I just wanted to also add that I think the Swans **__**do **__**treat Edward with respect, they are just much more blunt than Edward is accustomed to and this throws him. They might say what they are thinking but I think they do so respectfully. And from my admittedly cursory research, the word cock has been used as a term for the penis for a while. There were references to it from the Middle Ages according to one source. The word is believed to have originally been derived from the Old Norse word kokkr. Of course, the original meaning was the cock, the male chicken. It's easy to see how men would bastardize into a nickname for their favorite appendage. Men, gotta love 'em! Many sexual words have been in use for a very, VERY long time. In fact, some of the "dirtiest" are some of the oldest. Makes you wonder what Grandma and Grandpa were up to, huh?**_

**Chapter 7: Wed and Bedded**

The day of our wedding dawned bright and sunny. It seemed as if even nature was ready to celebrate our union. Carlisle and Charles helped me dress, along with my personal body servant. I had chosen an early hour, before the midday meal, so that I would not have to wait through a long, interminable day to make Isabella my wife. She had been agreeable, and I dared to hope that she was looking forward to being mine, even if just a little bit. The ceremony would be rather long and by the time it was over, we would have a banquet in the main hall. But first, there would be an elaborate procession through the capital city. The people would want to see their new queen and show her their love and respect. I had no doubt that she would win their hearts. She was lovely and gentle and kind, not to mention one of their own. My mother told me that the people loved the fact that a baron's daughter would soon sit on the throne. The procession was for our people, the banquet that followed after would be for our court.

After eating and drinking and dancing, I would escape with Isabella to our rooms and lock the rest of the world out. Forever. Or at least until neither of us could move.

I rode my favorite stallion to the holy place. In the middle of the courtyard, which was precisely in the center of the large structure, there was an ancient tree. Under its branches every king had been crowned and taken a wife. From the first Masen, King Henry, to me, the crown had been placed upon our heads right there. Every royal child had been blessed under those branches. The fourth of the Seven Hills ran along two sides of the holy place, giving the common people a place from which to look upon the ceremonies, and as I got closer, I could hear their yells.

It was humbling to ride along the streets, watching the faces of my people. They were genuinely pleased at the idea of my marriage. For most of them, today would give them their first glimpse of the new queen and they were already halfway in love with her. I had chosen a lovely little white mare for Isabella, a nice contrast to my own black horse. Isabella would follow along about ten minutes behind me, so that I would get no glimpse of her until she was escorted into the courtyard by her parents and brothers.

When I dismounted, I gave my people an enthusiastic wave of my hand and the noise swelled to deafening proportions. I grinned widely and I heard laughter spread through the crowd. They were happy to see_ me_ happy. Once more, I realized what a huge debt I owed to my people. My choices, good or bad, would impact their lives.

The holy man performed the purification rituals as Isabella made her way to me. His words seemed more meaningful today, though I had heard them countless times. I listened as he beseeched the gods to bestow their blessings on me, their king, and on my new bride. I added my own requests that I would be the kind of husband I should be and that I would put the needs of my wife first.

He walked me around the tree seven times, chanting the prayers of the Seven Brothers as he did so. As we rounded the tree for the last time, I heard the crowd go wild again and I knew my bride had arrived. My breath locked in my throat as I turned to watch the archway through which I knew she would appear.

It was then that my mother approached me. While the holy man whispered his blessing over my mother, I took Mother's hand.

Isabella's father came first, as was the custom. He approached me, knelt, gave me his oath of fealty again, and received the blessing of the holy man. When Charles got to his feet, it was time for Isabella. She walked in, dressed in a gown the same color green as my tunic. I smiled as I recognized our mothers' doing in matching us. Dozens of tiny carnations, the flower that symbolized betrothal and fertility, were woven into her hair. My mother released my hand and approached Isabella and her mother, murmuring the traditional words of welcome to the family. Once that was done, she kissed Isabella on the cheek and stood off to the side, making way for the next part of the ceremony.

Isabella continued walking toward me, her teeth worrying her lower lip. Her gown hugged her body in all the right way, and I prayed for the strength to get through the rest of the day without causing a scandal. The knowledge that tonight she would be mine sang through my blood, speeding up the beat of my heart and making me feel out of breath. The people screamed their approval of my lovely bride and she smiled, dipping her head in shy gratitude. Her brothers stalked behind her, and I could hear the people once again being to murmur and then yell in enthusiastic joy.

The sight of the Swan brothers was an intimidating one, especially clad in their heavy northern armor and ready for battle. It was a sign of their loyalty to me, and now to Isabella, that they came prepared to defend us. As her parents placed her hand in mine, her brothers knelt and swore their own oaths of fealty. Once Isabella had been declared my wife, her father and brothers would declare their oaths yet again, but this time they would do so to Isabella, their new queen. It was their right to be the first to do so.

I gave her parents the ritual words of gratitude for the gift of their daughter and we turned to the holy man, who smiled at Isabella gently. I could feel her trembling and gave her hand a little squeeze of reassurance. When a king took a bride, there were special words that bound them. Not only did Isabella promise to be kind and faithful, she took additional vows. She promised to help protect my kingdom and our people. She vowed to put the needs of the land before her own, just as I had promised to do when I was anointed as king. Then we both took vows that bound us man and wife, king and queen.

When the ceremony was over, the holy man made his proclamation, repeating the standard words that would be put into the histories marking the day. My people roared their approval. Then I was instructed to kiss her and she raised her pretty face to mine, her dark hair falling around her face like the finest silk.

Our lips touched and I felt the fire surge through me, unabated even though we had an audience of thousands. They crowd roared and screamed, calling out our names and asking the gods to bless us. Then her brothers and father knelt before her, solemnly pledging their lives to her protection as their queen and kin. Isabella's eyes filled with tears as she accepted their fealty. I watched in amazement as the young woman I had just married took on a regal air that would have looked natural on my mother.

I glanced back to see my mother smiling proudly and she came forward to embrace Isabella once again. Her gesture was not part of the ceremony and the crowd loved it. They knew the move had been spontaneous and heartfelt and they let us know how much they liked it. Isabella grinned up at the crowd and waved gaily, suddenly looking very much her age again.

I took her hand and we made a circle around the tree, waving at our people, letting them know that we cared for them too. By the time the holy man led us back out, I could barely hear myself think, the people were screaming so loudly. I did, however, manage to whisper in Isabella's ear, "You love history, well now you're a part of it, love. You'll never be forgotten." She smiled sweetly, as if I had presented her with an unexpected gift.

We rode our horses side by side back through the capital. The people threw flowers and ribbons and Isabella sweetly stopped her horse countless times to accept a posy from a child. The people were impressed by their first look at their new queen and they let her know it.

The courtiers were, by tradition, banned from the actual ceremony though they would help us celebrate our nuptials at the banquet. The ceremony was for the common people and the king and queen and their immediate family. It would be the same when our children were officially recognized at the holy place.

The entire court was assembled when we made our ceremonial entrance. After greeting each of the courtiers and making the appropriate responses, Isabella retired for a few moments with her mother and mine. She reappeared soon after looking much refreshed and it was time for us to dine and drink and wait...wait for the bedding ceremony.

_** ~Duty~**_

We were alone at last, in my – now our - bed chamber. Isabella was in a gown of sheerest silk, her hair really the only barrier between her sweet flesh and my greedy eyes. The gown was held together by four ribbons, one at each shoulder, and one at each side, just even with her breasts. It was not a garment intended to calm the lust surging through me. I wished fervently for a moment that they had dressed her in something thick and heavy and altogether repulsive. I was clad only in a dressing gown, and I worried that my rampant erection might frighten her if she caught sight of it. I offered her wine and she drank it too quickly.

She was even more nervous than I was.

I moved to the bed and cautiously removed my dressing gown and slid quickly beneath the sheets. She kept her eyes averted and I leaned back against the pillows and patted the space beside me. "Come here," I said softly. "The room is cold."

She shivered in response, though whether in anxiety or because of the chill, I could not tell. She was soon sitting beside me, her body stiff with tension. That would not do. I began running my fingers up and down her arm, keeping my touch light and my body angled away from her. Slowly, the wine and the warm fire and my soothing touch made her relax and she leaned back against her pillows and blinked up at me.

"The people..." she said. "They were so...welcoming." Her smile was wistful. "I didn't expect that. It made me mindful of my duty to them."

I felt my heart expand in my chest at that. She felt the burden of duty as I did, not as a chore, or a license to do what she willed, but a responsibility to make their lives better. "They loved you," I said.

She sighed and her eyes were on my mouth. "Will you kiss me...Edward?"

I smiled at her. "I hope to do much more than kiss you, Isabella."

Nodding solemnly, she gave a little sigh. "Yes, my mother told me."

I wanted to exhale in relief. Many brides went to their marriage beds completely ignorant, though that seemed cruel to both parties involved. If Isabella had an idea of what would happen, that would make my task so much easier. "Did you understand all she said?" I asked, letting my fingers move up her arm to her shoulder, where I brushed her hair back and out of the way. I untied the ribbon there but she did not notice. I soon gave similar attention to the other side.

She nodded. "She was quite plain," Isabella observed. "And I've seen the stallions covering the mares. I imagine it will be like that. I am not completely ignorant."

"It has some similarities," I conceded. "But there is less noise," I added. "Most of the time."

She giggled and then abruptly fell silent, her expression going tense. I decided that I had to begin or we would both lose our nerve. I had never bedded a virgin before, and this was my wife. For good or ill, we would begin our journey tonight. It was my responsibility to initiate her gently and tenderly into the physical side of our relationship if I hoped to enjoy a warm marriage bed. I rolled slightly, sort of tucking her beneath me, letting her feel the weight and heat of my body, the length of my manhood against her thigh. I wanted her to get used to our bodies pressed together, to learn to appreciate the way we fit against each other.

I kissed her, allowing my hands to roam down her side and slowly inch up her gown, keeping her mouth, and hopefully her mind occupied. I untied the ribbons that held the gown together at her sides. I knew the moment she was aware that her legs were exposed because she stiffened and gasped beneath me. "Shhhh..." I soothed.

I let my tongue sweep into her mouth and she moaned, her hands clutching at my shoulders. Once more, I was aware of her tender years. Yes, she was a woman fully grown, but so young and innocent and in every way that mattered. I must treat that innocence with the reverence it deserved. Her hands fluttered over me, settling on my lower back. "Oh, Isabella," I moaned. "I fear you will unman me if you keep touching me."

"Is this wrong?" her voice was soft.

"Gods, no, and that is the problem, my love," I told her. I wanted nothing more than to part her thighs and pound into her like an animal, but I would not ruin this night by acting precipitously. I would rouse her desire and then initiate her sweetly into the marriage bed. Better a little discomfort on my part now than to begin things badly. She was sweet and hot and so very trusting, I would not ruin that now.

I let my hips rock against hers, my cock against her, getting her used to the feel of me. I groaned when I realized that her reaction was dampening my flesh. My lips closed over one hard nipple and she arched against me in innocent confusion. "Edward?"

"Tis natural my love," I assured her. "You have an ache that I want to ease...that I was _made_ to ease. Just as you were created to ease the ache in me."

"I need...I don't know what I need," she said in obvious frustration. "But yes...I ache."

"I know," I said. "I'll take care of you. Just trust me, Isabella."

"Oh, Edward..." My fingers played between her thighs, coaxing more honey from her. One night soon, I would indulge myself by spending some time between those sweet thighs, licking and sucking and teasing her until we were both reduced to sweaty heaps. I would experience the sweet tug of her hands on my hair; sip the sweetness from her body.

For the moment, however, I had to consummate this marriage before I lost my tenuous hold on my control.

I spent time, trying to work her into a passion before I settled my hips fully between her legs. "Isabella?" I questioned. I positioned my cock at her entrance and once more fought the urge to simply thrust and take, though every male instinct in my body urged me to do just that. "I must hurt you now, just briefly."

"I know," she whispered against my ear. "Just do it and get it over with."

I laughed then at the note of impatience in her voice. I pushed inside of her, barely breaching her and she hissed and arched against me. I stayed utterly still, despite the almost irresistible urge to move further inside of her. After a long moment, she whispered in my ear, "My mother said you're supposed to move..." She sounded confused and breathless.

"Gods, please don't talk about your mother right now," I begged her, torn between laughter and mortification.

"Oh," she replied. Then she asked in a quiet voice, "But are you, supposed to move, I mean?"

"Yes," I gritted out.

"Oh."

She took a deep breath and shifted beneath me, which sent me slipping further inside of her. We both hissed at the change in sensation. However, I was just shy of breaking her barrier and I knew it.

"I'm sorry," I said again.

"No, it doesn't hurt...much...are you going to move now?"

My hands went to her hips to hold her steady and I thrust inside swiftly, taking her gasp in my mouth as I did so. She clutched at me and took in a shaky breath. "There, tis done," I said. I was not sure which of us was more relieved.

My whole body shook. I wanted to take. To claim. To lose myself in her soft heat. But I held still, though my whole body trembled with the effort. Her body gripped me like a hot glove, the softest and warmest haven I had ever found. Heat, slick, tight heat all around me. It was both torture and paradise all in one.

"Oh gods," I breathed.

She took a deep, shaky breath. "Just a moment...please." I could feel her trembling beneath me, around me. I closed my eyes and tried to think of any disgusting image I could. But all I could feel was her body tight around mine, goading me to movement, urging me to spill my seed inside of her and mark her as my own. I restrained myself by the barest of margins. At last, she heaved a sigh and touched my face tenderly.

"I think you're supposed to move some more," she instructed me primly and I laughed again. Who would have thought I would find laughter in my nuptial bed?

I brushed back her hair. "I think you are right, sweet Isabella." I kissed her. "Are you ready?"

"More than ready," she said and I moved forward just a bit.

We both gasped and I withdrew only to push forward again. This time her hips answered my motion and I felt my balls tighten. "By the gods, Isabella..." I could no longer form coherent thought and my hips were taking up the motion without my direction.

Thrusting into heat. Soft sighs, light caresses. Oh gods, I wanted her, more of her, all of her.

I felt my climax begin to rip through me and I knew that I would be unable to bring her to the same peak. It was too fast, too urgent, too overwhelming and there wasn't a damned thing I could do about it. Next time, I promised myself, next time I would ensure her satisfaction. Then I had no more inclination for thought because my world exploded into the woman beneath me. I shuddered and clutched and gasped against her and she held me tightly in every way she could.

I stayed there for a moment, reluctant to pull myself from her body. Spilling my seed inside her body had been a new experience. No more pulling out to watch my seed pulse onto a woman's belly. Now, I could bury my cock deep inside of her and let her body clutch at me, pulling my passion from me. Perhaps one day, my seed would find root in her body and I would watch with wonder as her belly grew round and large with my child. Not just a child, but a hope...the hope for a nation.

Finally, I slipped from her body and wrapped myself around her; letting my hand rest on the belly I hoped would one day shelter our child. "Next time, love, you shall feel the passion I feel."

"Twas quite sweet as it was, my lord," she said in a small voice. I laughed yet again and kissed her.

"Oh my love, it is innocence that makes you content. The day will come when you castigate me for spilling myself so quickly and I shall endeavor to make amends...many times," I teased her.

She blushed brightly, visible even in the dim light of our chamber. "We should sleep. They will be here early to fetch our sheets so that all might know you have done your husbandly duty." I knew she hated the thought of the display of our nuptial sheets, but I would not subject her to ridicule or doubt by forbidding it. It would be a quick embarrassment and then over once and for all.

"And a sweet duty it was, my love," I said, cradling her face. "The sweetest I have ever known." So sweet that I wanted to do it again. Now. But I knew I had to be patient, for she must be sore and tired. I closed my eyes and held her close. I imagined that there had never been a king in history quite so pleased with his bride.


	9. Chapter 8: The Seven Brothers

I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephenie Meyer. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

_**Author's Note: Not sure I'll get to post Monday, my granddaughter is here for a visit! Also, the story Edward tells Isabella in this is my own little creation. I used to make up stories for my kids quite often, and this is just a twist on one I used to tell them when they were little. Thank you for reading!**_

**Chapter 8: The Seven Brothers**

It was rather different sleeping in my bed with another person. Isabella slept restlessly, but I was pleased to see that, even in the grip of slumber, she reached for me. Often, she would murmur so quietly that I could not make out the words as she rubbed her body against me like a contented kitten. Her actions did nothing at all to alleviate the arousal that surged and sang through my body. The fire was low in the hearth, merely a glow that lent a dim illumination to the chamber, when she opened her eyes and seemed rather surprised to find herself wrapped around me. I had to smile at her sleepy confusion. "My humble apologies, Your Majesty," I whispered. "Was I thinking too loudly?"

A line appeared between her dark brows and she tilted her head to study me. Then her expression suddenly cleared. "Oh...that's me now, isn't it?" Her eyes were wide and anxious. "That is going to take some getting used to, I fear."

I wanted to take her hand and place it around my manhood, which seemed to throb in time with my heart beat. But I knew it was too soon; too bold a move for this first night. Instead, I moved closer and let it rub against her thigh. "Oh..." she whispered. "Again?" she sounded surprised.

I laughed quietly and gently cupped her breast. "As many times as you feel comfortable with, Isabella. I fear I am quite insatiable when it comes to you."

"You were...pleased?" she asked shyly. Her hands found their way to my shoulders, where she clutched at me and gasped as I closed my lips over one hard, pink nipple.

"Very pleased," I whispered. "And now I want to please you, too."

She shifted restlessly beneath me but I did not hurry. I continued my tender assault on her sweet breasts, licking and nipping and sucking until she was murmuring and sighing in mindless need. She wanted release, though she did not know yet what it was she sought. At last, I allowed my hands to move down her sides and in between her slim thighs. I slid one finger into her heat and she arched against me.

"Edward?" She sounded both confused and worried.

"Don't fear it, love," I soothed. "It is only pleasure that awaits you."

She stiffened for a moment and I kissed her deeply, feeling her relax at last beneath me. Her hips began moving in rhythm with my touch, her thighs falling apart to welcome me further, her sighs filling my mouth. I began to learn what pleased her, though she was not sure herself. When I swirled my fingers gently and then them thrust into her, she gasped and cried out my name. When I suckled at her breast as I moved my fingers inside of her, she began to tremble. I licked her nipple, sucked it into my mouth being mindful of my teeth. She became more and more restless beneath me, her hips answering my motions with her own.

I felt her completion begin to claim her. She clutched at me tighter, buffeted by the sensations raging through her body.

"Edward?" Her voice was a cry for reassurance.

"Let go, Isabella, I will catch you," I promised her. "I will always catch you."

She groaned and closed her eyes and I knew the instant she had given herself up to sensation and need. I felt her body tighten around my hand, clutch at me, squeeze me, rippling with tiny movements. I moaned, thinking of feeling that around my cock. Gods, I wanted to feel that, to lose myself in that. Soon, I promised us both, soon.

As she trembled her way down from her release, I removed my hand and slipped my cock inside of her. She moaned as I stretched her, moving in slowly but steadily. I put my arms under her, cradling her, holding her shoulders. "I've got to have you now, Isabella," I said by way of apology. My control was fast slipping through my fingers, but Isabella murmured her sweet surrender and I thrust hard. We both cried out. It felt painfully good. I buried my face in her neck; I let her fragrant hair bewitch me as I moved. She began catching my rhythm, her hips moving in time with mine. My balls tightened and the ache in my spine spread. I was not going to last this time either and I felt like I was fifteen again, taking my first woman. I muttered a curse as my climax ripped through me without my permission.

Damn it all, I used to have better control than this. But I was shuddering and shaking and spilling myself inside of her again, whispering her name over and over again as she held me. She soothed her hands over my sweaty back, murmuring my name and telling me that she would catch me too. When at last I had some strength I leaned up one elbow and brushed the hair back from her flushed face. "Oh my Isabella, you shall be the death of me," I confessed. Her face grew rosy and her eyes darted away from mine. Secrets glimmered in her dark eyes and I had to know. "What is it, love?"

Her eyes grew warm and soft, her smile was sweetly sinful. "I think I like this marriage business," she admitted shyly.

I laughed and kissed her again, simply because her lips tasted sweet and I was a man in need.

_**~Duty~**_

We slept a few more hours and then I heard a stirring outside the chamber doors a few hours after dawn. The women were there to inspect the sheets and declare the marriage valid and consummated. A servant was with them with a tray of food which I desperately needed. There was my mother, Lady Renee, the highest ranking duchess and the royal midwife. Renee and my mother held up a robe for Isabella and shielded her from sight as she slipped from between the sheets. I had pulled on some braies to cover my nakedness, more for Isabella's sake than my own.

As Isabella blushed, chastely dressed in a heavy robe and eating some bread and cheese by the fire, the women glanced at the sheets and made their pronouncement. It was a rather embarrassing moment, but I pretended to ignore them. Then Lady Renee and the midwife changed the sheets. When they were done, Renee cradled her daughter's face, studying her a long moment, searching for something.

At last, she gave a satisfied nod, turned to me and gave me a curtsy. Something in the gesture spoke of gratitude, and I inclined my head in recognition. They took our dishes away and we were alone again. By tradition, for the next three days no men would enter our personal apartments. There would be only our mothers and some female servants to take care of our basic needs.

Our bellies full and feeling drowsy and satisfied, we crawled back into bed. She laughed when I told her that robes were not allowed in the royal bed. Her face crimson, she shrugged out of her robe while I removed my own garment. I leaned back and pulled Isabella into my arms. She snuggled against me like a sleepy child. "Talk to me," she whispered. I tamped down my disappointment. I knew she had to be sore. Later this afternoon I would call for a bath for her with soothing herbs. And some wine. Perhaps we could share the bath...

"About what?" I asked as I rubbed silken strands of dark hair between my fingers.

Her hands began tracing patterns on my chest. I gave myself up to her gentle exploration. She was getting to know my body as I was getting to know hers. "Anything," she replied quietly. "I like the sound of your voice."

As her hand moved down my chest toward my belly, I caught it and held it fast. "You must stop there, little love, or we shall not be talking," I warned her.

She giggled and buried her face in my side, which was merely a fresh torment. I firmly took her hands and searched my mind for something that might interest her and distract me. "All right then, this is a story my mother used to tell me about the Seven Brothers." I remembered my mother telling me the stories and I hoped that one day I would tell them to my own children.

Isabella snuggled closer. "My mother used to tell me those tales too, but I want to hear how your mother told them." She closed her eyes and listened as I began to speak.

"A long time ago, before the Mother Mountain or the Seven Hills existed, there was a king. Our realm had many enemies and our land was wide open to attack. They came by sea and over the plains to the north, seeking the riches of the tiny kingdom. King Aro defended his kingdom against his enemies over and over again and was well beloved by his people. He and his wife had seven sons."

"What was his wife's name?" Isabella interrupted.

I paused. "You know, I've never heard what her name was." I shrugged. "Lost to time, I suppose."

Isabella frowned, her eyes still closed. "Typical," she muttered.

I squeezed her close. "And then Aro died, leaving his queen to defend the land and raise his sons. Most women would have failed," I continued.

Isabella leaned up and rolled her eyes. "Why do you think most women would fail?"

I tugged at a strand of her hair. "Because they aren't you."

That seemed to mollify her, because she gave a little grunt and settled back against me. "Continue."

"Now who is always giving orders?" I teased. "So, there were seven brothers," I said. "There was Mazenrir, the eldest. Like all of his brothers, he had a special gift. He could hear the thoughts of men."

"What about women?" Isabella asked. "Could he hear their thoughts?"

"I don't think any man can truly understand a woman's mind, tis too complex for our mere male comprehension," I said.

She kissed the flesh at my side and I willed my body into submission. She was so sweetly tempting and had no idea, which merely made me want her even more. The Seven Brothers, yes...

"Then there was Rakis, the Mischief Maker," I said. "He was just a year younger than his brother but was not jealous that his brother would inherit the throne. His gift was loyalty and truth. In fact, he vowed to never marry or produce children so that they could not weaken his brother's claim. He was a prankster, but his heart was completely faithful and true." I kissed the top of her head. "After Rakis came the twins, Talus and Toros, the Hammer and the Sword. They were the warriors of the clan, bold and fearless. They were happiest on a battle field."

"And then there was Mengus," Isabella said. "The Mood Maker."

I nodded. "Mengus could manipulate the feelings of those around him. He could make them angry or suspicious or happy or fearful. After Mengus came Rhoden, The Shield. He could strengthen the walls of any keep with the power of his mind alone."

Isabella sighed contentedly and placed her arm over my chest. "You have a lovely voice," she murmured. "Keep talking."

"The youngest was Menrir," I said. "His gift was to see the future. He could see what was coming but could not change it, so I suppose it was both his blessing and his curse. He finally went mad but his brothers cared for him until the end of his days." Isabella looked up at me.

"That's rather sad, don't you think, to have a gift that ultimately destroys you?" she asked.

"I suppose it could happen to anyone," I said. "We take a strength and allow it to become a weakness."

"Or," Isabella said thoughtfully. "We think of something as a weakness when in truth it is a strength. It might all be in how we view a thing."

I kissed her again. "And finally, the Brothers were old enough to hold the kingdom on their own and the queen grew tired. She told her sons that when she died they were to take her ashes and spread them along the northern borders of the land, so that she might continue to protect them. The brothers thought it a foolish request, but did so."

"And from the ashes rose the Mother Mountain," Isabella said quietly.

I nodded. "She swore that she would always help protect the brave men who guarded our borders, and so she does." I held Isabella close. "She watches over the barons, men like your father. She shelters them and protects them from our enemies."

"My brothers and I often played in the shadow of the Mother Mountain," she said with a smile. "Once we climbed higher than we were supposed to and I fell a long distance when some rocks gave way. My mother was furious and would not let me out of her sight for a full moon cycle. I finally annoyed her so much with my complaints that she set me free." She laughed. "She was most displeased with my brothers as well. Jacob was just a babe, but Emmett and Jasper suffered her full wrath."

"They should have watched out for you better," I said with a thrum of useless, tardy anxiety. I sighed.

"Finish the story," she instructed me.

"And as the brothers died, the other brothers and their children spread their ashes too, from the Mother Mountain to the southern sea and from their ashes rose the Seven Hills."

"Is it true that you are descended from Mazenrir?" she asked.

I laughed. "That is what my ancestor said," I admitted. "Henry the White."

"Why did they call him The White?" Isabella asked. "Mother never said why."

"It was said that his skin was so fair that it shone like a diamond in the sun," I told her with a smirk. Her lips looked too soft and inviting for my peace of mind. "It was also whispered, though never to his face, that his mother had gotten him in her belly when she came upon a nightwalker and that was why his skin was so fair – that he was not fully of this world."

"You are fair," she said, brushing back my hair. "But you do not sparkle in the sun." She made a little face. "I should like to see that." Her eyes glinted with mischief.

"You are incorrigible," I said. Her arms wrapped around my neck and she pulled me close. Then she yawned widely before I could kiss her.

"And you are inexhaustible," she said, nudging her hips toward my rampant erection. "Let me sleep for an hour and then I shall see to that stout fellow that presses so impudently against my leg." I was thrilled at the boldness I sensed in her.

She closed her eyes, but a lingering smile played upon her lips. I closed my eyes and tried to ignore the throbbing in my manhood. After a long pause, she opened her eyes again, biting her lip. "Does it hurt?"

"Does what hurt?"

Her hand drifted down my belly and I got her meaning. I grabbed her hand. "Yes, a little," I admitted. "It is only because I want you so badly. But I do not want to hurt you. I can wait. You are sore, and tired. I've been greedy after all. Rest, and then we shall see how things proceed."

"Can I...can I touch it?" she asked with innocent curiosity.

I groaned. "Oh Isabella, I would like nothing more, but if you do I fear I shall forget all of my fine intentions and have you right here and now."

A determined look came over her face and she wrapped her fingers around me. I jerked in her grasp. I was torn between guiding her motions and ripping her hand away. Then she tightened her grip and I gave up the battle. I put my hand around hers and squeezed, showing her how to stroke me. She was an eager and willing pupil, murmuring her amazement at how readily my flesh responded. We kissed and she kept up the rhythm of her hand. I was thrusting into her grip, feeling her soft breasts pressed against me, greedily taking her mouth with mine. It was all so sweet... Her hand tightened and sped up.

"Isabella!" I managed to gasp. "I...I..."

I could give her no further warning, my speed spilling out over her hand and onto my belly. I shuddered and cursed under my breath. When I had regained my breath I watched with amusement as Isabella stared at her hand, obviously wondering what to do with the mess I had left there. I grabbed my discarded tunic and gently wiped her hand clean. I pushed her down against my chest. "Sleep now, little love. We are both weary."

She yawned again. "Being married is quite exhausting," she muttered just before she closed her eyes.


	10. Chapter 9: To Cherish Isabella

I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephenie Meyer. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

**Chapter 9: To Cherish Isabella**

Later that day I called for a bath and after the servants filled the tub, I dismissed them and asked Isabella to join me. My original intention had been to share a bath with my bride, but I changed my mind. Instead, I bid Isabella to get into the large wooden tub first. I was beginning to feel guilty for my lack of control when it came to my bride. There was something about her that made me feel once more like an untried boy taking his first woman. Isabella blushed shyly as she disrobed and then got into the tub, closing her eyes and leaning back once she was settled. I took the cloth and gently washed her body, using the lavender scented soap I knew would suit her. She sighed happily as I tenderly washed her flesh and then rinsed it, making sure the water was still warm enough.

"Surely I should be washing you?" she murmured quietly, turning her head to meet my eyes. I smiled at her and brushed my knuckles over her cheek.

"You are my queen," I said simply. "My wife..." I did not know how to explain myself, so I simply resumed washing her. "Get your hair wet, I wish to wash it for you." I had never done anything like that before, but I was fairly sure that I could manage it without mucking it up too badly. It was washing hair after all, not building a castle.

"It is a troublesome task," Isabella said warningly. "I have quite a lot of it." I scowled at her playfully and she laughed and then obediently ducked her head under the water. She came up grinning and gasping for breath, her hair hanging in front of her eyes and down her back and over her breasts.

I rubbed the lavender soap into the heavy, dark locks, thinking that it felt softer than the finest silk, but it was warm not cool to the touch. I grabbed for a pitcher and dipped it into the water. "Close your eyes," I warned. Then I carefully and slowly rinsed her hair. "Stand up," I said. I took a drying cloth from before the fire, wrapped it around her, taking care to keep it above the water, and plucked her from the tub. She wrapped her arms around my neck and buried her face, shrieking with laughter.

I barely managed to plant her feet on the rug before I lost my grasp on her slippery, wet body. She was pressed up against me most deliciously. "I will be your lady's maid," I whispered. She blushed bright red but nodded and I began the slow, tortuous process of drying her body.

"What about you, Edward?" she asked. It still gave me a thrill to hear her say my name, especially since she had refused to do so before our marriage. It felt strangely intimate to hear her say it, as if she was whispering the most decadent thoughts in my ear while I moved inside of her.

I shrugged. "I shall bathe later," I said dismissively. "For now, I want to tend to my bride."

She put her hands on my shoulders when I bid her to lift her feet one at a time so that I might dry them. I knelt before her like a squire, making sure she was warm and dry. "Even your feet are pretty," I commented and Isabella laughed. I looked up at her and smiled.

"They're just feet, Edward, neither pretty nor ugly," she argued. "They just are."

"You're wrong," I told her and then assumed my most arrogant air. "Besides, you should not argue with your king," I added.

She nodded solemnly, though her lips twitched. "You are right. My most humble apologies." Then she fell to her knees and our faces were almost even with each other. Tentatively, she reached out and cradled my face in her hands. "You're very handsome," she whispered.

"Thank you," I said just as quietly.

"It wasn't a compliment," she teased. "It's very worrisome, truth be told."

"Is it now?" Her mind was fascinating to me, for I could never predict what she might say.

She nodded and bit her lower lip. "I should prefer a husband who is not quite so handsome so that I might feel more beautiful." But the gleam in her eyes was amused.

"A pity you got stuck with me, then."

She tilted her head and studied me. "You puzzle me, my lord."

I drew her closer and placed my lips against hers. "What is my name?"

"Edward," she murmured against my mouth. "Edward..." Kiss. "Edward." Kiss. "Edward..."

Slowly, carefully, I lowered my body to the rug, grateful for the fire that kept us warm. I settled Isabella on top of me, straddling my body. The drying cloth was still loosely wrapped around her leg and I plucked it away. "You are so beautiful, Isabella..._my_ Isabella," I whispered.

"_My_ Edward," she returned and I closed my eyes at the sweetness of the possessiveness in her voice.

"Are you too sore...?"

She quirked one eyebrow at me. "Again? You are a greedy wretch, are you not?"

I grinned. "Always."

"Easily then," she answered and made to move. I grabbed her hips and stilled her.

"Like this," I whispered.

"How?" she asked, her eyes glinting in the firelight and the sunlight that filtered into the room.

I moved her so that she was hovering over me. "Take me this time and ride me, my love."

"Like a horse?" She giggled then and sounded so mischievous that I had to laugh at her. The idea seemed to shock and intrigue her.

"Yes," I agreed, putting my hands on her hips to show her what to do. Then she sank down onto me slowly and we both groaned at the sensation. "Just...like...that..."

I held her hands in mine, guiding her movements, keeping her steady. She moved slowly at first, driving me mad. "Like this?" she asked breathlessly.

"Gods yes," I moaned. "Just so."

She gained confidence then, moving a bit more swiftly but just as deliberately. Her eyes were dark with secrets as she gazed down on me. "_My_ Edward..." she whispered.

"Yours," I promised.

Our passion grew slowly, steadily, our movements were languid. She moved with grace and growing confidence above me and my eyes drank their fill. She was lovely as she took me, her breasts gently bouncing with every soft thrust of her hips, her hair swinging wetly against our bodies, the sounds of flesh meeting flesh, the song of sighs and whispers and the crackling of the fire adding their own music. I began thrusting up into her with more force and she cried out her appreciation, her head thrown back. "Oh!" She sounded surprised.

"That's it, love," I encouraged, panting and gasping. "We will...fall...together."

Then it finally happened. I felt her sweet body clenching around mine as we found our pleasure together. I held fast to her hips, holding her to me while I emptied myself inside of her. The moment seemed to stretch on forever. At last, she collapsed against me, breathing as hard as I was, which did much to help soothe my ego. I caressed the soft flesh of her back, noting that her hair had dried somewhat but was still clinging to her damply.

When at last we could breathe, I urged her to sit up. I settled myself in the chair by the fire and asked her to kneel in front of it, her back to me. She started slightly when I began brushing her hair, obviously not expecting that. I was surprised that she did not seek her robe or at least the drying cloth. Instead, she let her hair cover her as I brushed it, tenderly working out the snarls I had helped to put in it. The heat from the fire dried it as I brushed and at last it curled and swayed down her back like the richest silk. I ran my fingers through it one last time. "There," I whispered.

She turned and looked up at me, a strange expression in her eyes.

_**~Duty~**_

Our three days of solitude were over and once more, we faced our court. Isabella blushed beautifully as she was formally introduced to the assembled courtiers as my _wife_, not just my bride. It was a distinction in status. I had requested that her family join us at the table at the head of the hall and I was not surprised to see Lady Renee and my mother with their heads pressed together like conniving children. They would glance at Isabella and me and then laugh like girls. It was most disconcerting. Isabella immediately began talking with Rosalie and I finally got a glimpse into Rosalie's character.

Rosalie Swan had a biting wit, a blunt tongue, and a loving heart. Her obvious love for her husband, her absolute joy in her children, and her high regard for Isabella won me over completely. She was strangely shy when it came to talking to me, but she began opening up a bit as the evening progressed. Like the rest of the Swans, she did not seem to know how to practice the universal courtly habits of evasion and half-truths. I found their unapologetic, straight forward manner quite a refreshing change. I had discovered, much to my surprise, that I liked these strange northerners, these frank Swans. Still, I could see that Rosalie was a bit intimidated, or perhaps she was somewhat shy.

The turning point came when I leaned over Isabella just a bit and directly addressed Rosalie. "I would love to visit your babes in the nursery," I told her with a smile. "Isabella has spoken of them at great length and I must say that, though I'm not overly familiar with children, yours do seem to be particularly handsome and happy."

Rosalie's face went pink with pleasure and she was soon regaling me with stories of their achievements, though I had not been aware that it was possible for children who had not yet seen their first name day to have accomplished so much. It was clear that Rosalie had a spectacular memory and a wry way of telling stories that made me laugh.

I held Isabella's hand as Rosalie talked. Emmett merely watched his wife with a pleased, bemused smile on his face. It was clear that he adored her. I wondered if Isabella would miss them fiercely when they left to return home. As Sir Charles had said, they had been away from their lands for some months now and it wouldn't do to leave the borders unprotected for too long. Jasper had agreed to stay here and train with my guard. Even Jacob was considering a prolonged stay in court and then perhaps training with one of my senior knights on his estates, though I had heard Sir Charles say that if the boy's backside was bared to the sky any more it would burst into flames. Apparently, young Jacob had just learned the pleasures of taking a woman. I had been only a year older when I made my own discovery, but Jacob seemed to be exceptionally enthusiastic in his pursuits.

Carlisle handed me a message while we dined and I smiled. I leaned in to Isabella and handed it to her. "I hope you will like her," I whispered.

My mother had been the one to remind me that my wife would require ladies-in-waiting. But I also thought that Isabella might like having one special woman with whom she might build a friendship. Carlisle's niece had immediately come to mind. She had journeyed to our land when she was only fourteen. Her father had remarried and his new wife did not like to be reminded of her husband's first, beloved wife or the daughter who looked just like her. So, Alice had come to her uncle and she managed his small estate with aplomb. Now, however, I had asked her to come to court to see if she and Isabella would suit each other.

"She is Carlisle's niece?" Isabella asked. She sounded nervous. "And she arrives tomorrow?"

I nodded, hoping she would be pleased. But she looked anxious.

"What if she doesn't like me?" Isabella asked fretfully.

I laughed then and kissed Isabella's cheek. "Of course she'll like you, you are the queen. It is her duty."

For some reason that made Isabella roll her eyes at me. "Oh Edward..." she said.

_**~Duty~**_

Alice arrived the next day and to my surprise not only did she seem quite happy to be in Isabella's company, she took to Rosalie right away as well. By the evening meal, she was talking animatedly with my mother, Lady Renee, Rosalie and Isabella. In fact, they were so involved in their own conversation that I was beginning to feel a little bereft.

It did not help matters that I had finally had to turn my attention back to matters of the kingdom. There was the start of a problem with pirates off our southern coast and we would have to address that. The price of flour had gone up markedly in one of the western provinces and I had given orders to find out if it was the scarcity of grain or a problem with a millhouse. There were unscrupulous individuals who would charge dearly for farmers to grind their grain if they knew the farmers had no one else to whom they might turn for the service. The farmers of the community had sent a petition and messenger to me to make their case, as was their right. My realm was small, but the problems were endless, especially for a sovereign who liked to be as involved as possible. Carlisle and I discussed sending some members of my own personal guard on one of the ships that traveled the route most vulnerable to attack but came to no conclusions. Then Carlisle asked if I wanted to honor my new father-in-law with additional titles and perhaps one for each of his sons as well. I thought that this was a grand idea and told Carlisle that I would discuss it with Charles soon.

So all day I had been mired in matters of the realm. Now I wanted only to enjoy my Isabella's company but instead she was surrounded by women. I sulked a bit as I ate my pheasant. I brooded when the sweets were served and by the time the fool and the jugglers were preparing to entertain us, I wanted nothing more than to grab Isabella's hand and drag her to our chambers. I wanted to let my body sink into hers and forget the troubles of the day.

She glanced up and must have seen something on my face because she murmured to the women, who looked at me and then laughed. I had a feeling I was the object of their amusement so I did what any king worth his crown would do in such a situation – I ignored them. Then Isabella scooted her chair closer to mine and put her hand over mine. "I wanted to thank you," she said softly. That was not what I had expected to hear. She smiled. "Alice is wonderful," she elaborated. "I think that she will prove to be an excellent companion." I nodded stiffly, still not quite over my annoyance. Isabella lightly caressed my cheek, her first public gesture of affection beyond holding my hand, and my body reacted in very predictable ways. "Thank you for thinking of her," Isabella murmured. "And tonight, when we return to our chambers, I shall endeavor to show you how kind and considerate I think you are...Edward." There was always something about hearing my name on her sweet lips that made me ache for her.

"I'm glad you like her," I muttered. Isabella laughed.

"I like _you_ too, you know," she whispered in my ear. Suddenly the evening looked very bright indeed.


	11. Chapter 10: Curiosity and the Queen

I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephenie Meyer. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

_**Author's Note: Yes, this update is early. But I told you, I don't have a very good track record at playing coy. :p**_

**Chapter 10: Curiosity and the Queen**

That night in our chamber, Isabella seemed distracted. As I kissed her, I began to worry. What if she found that being married to me was not as wonderful as she had thought it would be? What if she decided that making love to me was not pleasant? I had nothing on which to base these fears, but I was a man as well as a king.

"What troubles you, little love?" I finally asked, brushing back the dark silk of her hair.

To my surprise, she blushed brightly and hid her face in my chest. "Nothing I wish to speak of, Edward," she informed me in a tight voice.

"Now you have me curious," I said with a slight smile as I tilted up her chin so that I could stare into her expressive eyes. There was no subterfuge in Isabella in any way, but her eyes were particularly revealing.

"I do not wish to discuss it," she said firmly.

"Is it bad? Do you fear angering me?" I asked.

She shook her head abruptly and bit her lip. "No, Edward, nothing like that." The blush lit up her cheeks again and she looked pained. I grew more and more intrigued.

"Isabella..." I breathed as I kissed a path along her throat.

She moaned slightly and clutched at my shoulders. "Please, do not ask me again," she begged and the sound of her breathless plea got me so hard that I ached.

"I must," I said. "I find myself growing mad to know what secrets lurk in those beautiful brown eyes of yours."

"It is too embarrassing to speak of," she muttered.

I nipped at her earlobe and she gave a little yelp of surprise. "We are wed," I reminded her. "We are in our marriage bed," I added. "Here, more than anywhere else in the world, we should speak freely with each other." I leaned back to look at her. "Please, my love, do not torture me further."

She paused. "It is...it is about lovemaking," she finally whispered.

"My favorite topic of conversation," I told her.

She rolled her eyes at me. I was becoming quite familiar with the gesture. "Greedy wretch," she accused with a light tug on my hair. I liked it.

"Tell me," I commanded just before my mouth closed over her nipple. She arched against me and pulled at my hair some more. I still liked it. Curious. I hadn't known that I liked to have my hair yanked on like that.

Isabella groaned and turned her face away from me. "I cannot look at you while I say this, so if you really want to hear it, you must stay there...and let me look at the wall in my shame. I shall not be able to utter the words if I have to look at you while I do so."

I wanted to laugh, truly I did. But I sensed that she might never confess whatever it was that had her cheeks glowing like she had gotten too close to the fire. "Very well," I conceded graciously now that I was getting my way.

"Rosalie...said...something," Isabella finally whispered after a long pause. "Something that was quite interesting."

I watched as she swallowed hard.

"And I was wondering if what she said was true...and acceptable," Isabella said.

"What did she say, love?" I gently pushed.

"Oh gods!" Isabella screwed her eyes shut. "She said...she said that sometimes men and women kiss each other...down...there..."

Immediately, a flood of images inundated my feverish imagination and I groaned at the throbbing in my cock. "I'm sorry," Isabella muttered. "I shouldn't have-"

Forcefully, I turned her over to face me. I kissed her mouth and then her hot cheeks. "What Rosalie said?" Isabella nodded. I smiled. "It's both true and very, very acceptable," I told her softly. "In fact, it's much more than acceptable, it is...well, perhaps a little demonstration is in order?"

I half-expected her to refuse, but instead a look of curiosity came over her lovely features. "If you are sure it is proper," she finally murmured.

"We are married," I told her. "Anything we choose to do is proper. Did the gods not give us bodies that fit each other so well that we ache to put them together? Did the gods not give us passion to make the cold nights warmer and the getting of children a joy?" I kissed her again. "Oh Isabella, we honor the gods when we make good use of their gifts."

She laughed then. "I think the holy men might disagree," she teased.

"Then let's not tell them," I retorted and I began moving down her body. I kissed each breast and adorned each nipple with a slow lick. She murmured and arched and tried to keep me where I was, but I eluded her. I kissed my way down her belly, moving slowly toward my ultimate destination. When I reached the soft curls that guarded her most secret flesh, I gently blew my warm breath through them and Isabella shuddered. Tenderly, I parted her thighs further and pressed a soft kiss on each slim leg. In truth, I did not have much experience with this particular aspect of bed sport. Most women were, sadly, not as clean as Isabella and I was overly fastidious it seemed. Also, it seemed rather undignified for a monarch to have his face pressed between the thighs of a woman, even if she was sweetly scented. But with Isabella...

I licked at her and we both groaned at the sensation. She tasted like Isabella, that was the only way I could describe it. Her scent was intoxicating. I circled my tongue slowly over the nub that was the seat of her passion. Then I suckled at it and Isabella's thighs clamped down on my head, Gently, I eased them away a bit and continued moving my mouth on her. Her hands began tugging at my hair in earnest when my tongue slipped inside of her, imitating the motions we both enjoyed so much.

"Edward?" she finally gasped out. "What?"

I stopped just long enough to reassure her. "Let go, little love, 'tis just like when I am inside of you." Then I sucked at her again, letting my fingers take up the motion within that my tongue had abandoned.

I felt her clutching at my fingers and I circled and licked and sucked until she gave a sharp cry and trembled beneath me.

I held her for a long while and I thought she had fallen asleep, so still did she become. My cock throbbed and jerked but I knew that a gentleman and a king would let his wife sleep. Sometimes I wished I had not been so well brought up. Then she murmured contentedly and opened her eyes to look at me.

"Tell me, Edward..." She blushed but not as brightly as before.

"Yes, love?"

"That type of kissing... Can I kiss you the same way?" She could not quite meet my eyes but I was fairly certain that she saw me gulp since her eyes seemed locked on my throat.

"Yes," I answered carefully. "Is that something you would like to do...one day?"

She shook her head and I fought down my disappointment. Then Isabella laughed and wrapped her hand around my straining manhood. "No, Edward, I would like to do that _tonight_."

And then the little minx was sliding down my body, her movements far more assured and swift than my own had been earlier. She gave my belly one playful kiss and then brought her mouth close to the head of my cock. I could feel her breath on me, hot and tempting and oh so close. Then she gave it one tentative lick and I was grabbing the sheets and trying with all of my might not to grab her head and push her mouth down on me. "Oh gods!"

She laughed and then brought the head into her mouth and sucked. I was twisting and writhing as she explored me with a strange innocent curiosity. I could see that she liked my reaction to her efforts and I told her how good her mouth felt on me. Over and over again.

"Yes, Isabella...oh gods...your mouth is paradise, love...oh yes, just like that...you can suck harder...and yes, touch me there..."

Then I felt my orgasm begin to surge through me and I reached down and pulled her up the length of my body. I rolled and pinned her beneath me, pulling her hands up over her had and quieting her sweet protests with my mouth. "I wasn't done-" she told me breathlessly. I thrust inside of her and she moaned.

It was hard and frenzied, but lasted far longer than I had anticipated. I talked to her, telling her how good she felt around me, how warm and sweet she tasted, how much I loved the feel of her mouth on me. And with every naughty word that I whispered to her, I felt her getting wetter and wetter. My little love liked to hear my dirtiest thoughts.

I liked to tell them to her.

I came with a shout, Isabella having beaten me by two strokes. Neither of us complained.

_** ~Duty~**_

Isabella assimilated into court life effortlessly. It helped that my courtiers had gotten to know her during our courtship process. Isabella immediately began consulting with Carlisle as to what charities with which she wanted to become involved. A large part of her duties was to serve the people directly, and it was a duty she took very seriously, to my joy. My mother and Isabella often could be found chatting quietly in a warm corner, Lady Renee at their side and Rosalie and the babies nearby. I found that the babies were rather amusing with their bright blue eyes and chubby fingers that were constantly reaching for items which had been forbidden to them.

A week after our wedding, Isabella's cycle with the moon came as expected but I was surprised to find that I was not disappointed. Lady Renee seemed pleased and when I asked her about it, she smiled slyly. "This way no one will make claims that the babe was conceived before the wedding, Sire," she explained. "We have a tendency to be brought to bed a little early and I had worried..."

I could see her point and was then doubly glad that it had worked out so well. A month after the wedding, her father came to me and told me that it was time for him and his wife to return to their holding. I knew it would make Isabella sad to see them go, but I also recognized the need for the northern barons to be at their posts. The husband in me was troubled, but the king appreciated Charles' dedication to duty. Before he left, I told him that I wanted to bestow a title on him. I had an earldom in mind. In truth, it was a small price to pay, an honor that would not cost the crown a thing.

"Sire...Edward," he added, letting me know that he wanted to speak to me as my wife's father and not my subject. "I am honored, truly, but I would not aspire so high. You took my daughter to wife, and that is an honor. But what truly honors me is that you made her happy. Verily, I must confess that if you had declared your desire for her hand but she had not been happy about it, I would have been tempted to create a betrothal and marry her off quickly. I like my children to be happy, and I realize that while that may not be a popular notion, I value their happiness above titles and riches." He paused. "Continue to make my daughter a happy woman, Sire, and I shall have all the honor I need."

I could only stare at him. I could not remember a single instance of a subject refusing a title. "What will your lady wife say about your refusal?" I asked. Lady Renee would have an opinion on the subject, of that I was sure.

"We have already discussed the possibility," Charles admitted. "There have been rumors." He shrugged. "I do not care for gossip, but a man hears what he hears."

I nodded. "I shall agree to your refusal," I said, knowing even as I spoke that my words were arrogant. But I was going to show Sir Charles that he could not expect to win every confrontation. "But..."

Sir Charles grimaced, recognizing my tone.

"Upon the birth of my first son, you shall be an earl, whether you want to be or not." I settled a stern and regal look upon him, daring him to argue the point with me. Even Sir Charles recognized defeat when it stared him in the face.

He inclined his head graciously. "On that, Sire, we may agree. If my grandson is going to sit on the throne one day, I agree that an earldom might be appropriate. But only then, Your Majesty," he added with a stern look of his own.

I laughed, also knowing when I had met my match. "I can only say, Sir Charles, that I am very glad that men of your ilk are guarding our northern borders. It makes my sleep easier at night."

"And we are proud to render our service." He paused. "My son Emmett and his Rose would like to stay for another few months if that suits you, Sire," Charles requested.

"They need not ask my permission," I said. "They will stay as Isabella's family, not courtiers. You and your family are always welcome here, no need to ask."

"I am grateful," Charles replied. Just then there was a knock on the door and I bade the guard to open it and Lady Renee walked in, giving me a quick curtsey before she moved to her husband's side and took his hand.

"Sire," she began hesitantly. "Before we leave, I would like to make a request."

I nodded for her to continue.

"When Isabella conceives, I would like your permission to send to court the family midwife. Old Nell delivered Charles and his brothers, as well as our own children," Lady Renee said.

I was a bit taken aback. There was a court midwife, of course. She attended the births of all the highest ranking ladies of the court. I was not sure that I trusted some ancient crone from the north country to deliver the future king of the realm. However, I also wanted to avoid insulting Isabella's mother. She must have seen my dilemma because she gave a short, impatient sigh. "Sire...Nell has safely delivered more than a dozen Swans alone. She has seen mothers through the most difficult of births. She is clean and knowledgeable. The mothers under her care do not develop childbed fever, and I am convinced that her scrupulous attention to cleanliness is the key. I do not want my daughter to be safely brought to bed of a son only to lose her to the fever. I do not think you want that either."

"Of course not," I agreed. "Still, there are protocols to be observed."

"Protocols are nothing compared to the health of your wife and child," Lady Renee pointed out.

"True," I murmured. "I understand your concerns; however, I must also be mindful of some traditions. Perhaps we could have your Nell here as well as the court midwife?"

Lady Renee hesitated.

"I do this for Isabella's sake as well, Lady Renee," I said quietly. "If we completely disregard the services of the official midwife, there will be those who ask what the queen has to hide that she will only use a family servant to deliver the heir. With both of them there, we can avoid such a situation. Your daughter will have the care of your Nell, and no one in my kingdom can question the legitimacy of our heir."

"Ah yes, the snarls of court life," Renee observed with a grimace. "I cannot say I miss such ways where we live in the shadow of the Mother Mountain." She sighed. "I understand and thank you for taking the time to explain your concerns to me." She gave me a wide smile. "It was very well done, Edward," she added in a laughing voice. "I think being married had soothed your rough edges."

"Edges?" I asked. But she was already giving me another curtsey and leaving the room. I turned to Charles. "What does she mean by rough edges?"

Charles shrugged, his mouth tugged up into a smile. "She is a woman, Sire, and as such will often say things that puzzle the male mind."

I grunted and sat back. "Rough edges indeed," I muttered.

For some reason, that made Charles laugh.

_**~Duty~**_

We celebrated Isabella's seventeenth Name Day just two days before her father and mother left. Emmett and Rosalie were staying at court for a few months. Jasper formally joined the guard and was doing quite well. Jacob had had the misfortune to get caught with a milkmaid who had two large brothers and was nursing two black eyes at the feast in Isabella's honor. The women of his family gave him no sympathy and even his father told him that if he wanted to play men's games, then he must be prepared to pay the price. I had a feeling that Jacob was going to be a bit more circumspect in the future. For a while anyway. He was returning home with his parents for the time being.

Her parents left and Isabella cried as they rode away. I had been touched to see the obvious love and care between Renee and Isabella. Even Emmett had submitted to Renee's fervent embraces and tearful farewells. Rosalie had promised to write often and at last Charles informed Renee that they had to leave sometime this century. She had rolled her eyes at him and suddenly I knew where Isabella got it.

Weeks after they left, Isabella was still teary and emotional. I was surprised because that did not seem in character. Then, a few mornings later, I was disturbed by Isabella bolting out of bed and hunching over the chamber pot. She was retching fit to die, and she told me so as soon as she could catch her breath. When she finally sat back and shakily wiped at her face, I was moved from my bemusement and quickly moistened a cloth and held it to her sweaty face.

"Isabella?" I asked. Hope beat hard in my chest, but it could have been a bit of bad beef from the night before.

She smiled and her eyes were alight with womanly secrets. "Well, my lord husband," she said quietly. "Unless all of the symptoms my mother explained to me are wrong, I think that there will soon be an occupant in that lavish nursery you had designed."

For once, all of my words abandoned me.

_**Another note: No, Edward hasn't told her that he loves her. There's a very good reason for that. He hasn't figured it out for himself yet. Our boy is rather dense when it comes to such matters. Have patience with him. He's only a man after all!**_


	12. Chapter 11: Blessings and Deprivations

I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephenie Meyer. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

_**Author's Note: Couldn't wait. Pretty much the same old, same old. :p I'm sick and have a HUGE presentation today, so posting early is my guilty pleasure and way of "buying myself some happy" except that it's free. Thank you to everyone who has given this story such enthusiastic support! I've been shocked, but in a very good way.**_

**Chapter 11: Blessings and Deprivations**

I blinked at her stupidly. I was quite sure she was beginning to wonder if I had lost my mind. Or perhaps suffered some sort of seizure. One of the Romans had had seizures, though his name escaped me at the moment. Then I wondered why I was mentally reviewing ancient history when my wife had just told me that I was going to be a father.

It was enough to break me from my stupor. I grabbed her tightly and then immediately loosened my grip, glancing down at her belly in fear. She gave a watery chuckle. "Oh Edward, the look on your face," she laughed and then slumped to the side, laughing so hard – at _me_ – that she could not remain upright.

I was torn between joining her in laughter and taking offense. Finally, laughter seemed the easier option. I sprawled on the floor next to her, as undignified as a king could be. I kissed her. "Oh Isabella," I murmured, putting my hand on her warm belly. "Thank you, little love. Thank you, thank you, thank you." I cradled her close to me. "I can scarcely believe it," I whispered.

"Well, we cannot be entirely sure until the babe quickens," Isabella warned. "But I have all the signs my mother told me to watch for, so I feel certain that there is a little one – a son or daughter - inside of me right now."

"Boy or girl, I care not," I said, surprised to discover that I meant it. Isabella looked at me in surprise.

"But you wanted sons," she blurted.

"I still do," I acknowledged, taking a strand of her hair in my fingers. "But we have time for a son if this babe proves to be a daughter." I smiled at her. "I would treasure a daughter with her mother's deep brown eyes and impudent ways."

She sighed and rested her head on my chest. I wondered what my people would say if they could see their king and queen on the floor of their bed chamber, lolling about like undisciplined children. "The babe will arrive sometime around the celebration of Mazenrir," she noted, having obviously done some quick calculations.

"It is fitting," I said. "Wait until the court hears the news!"

Isabella grimaced. "Please, may we not keep this to ourselves for a while? Just until the child moves and we are absolutely certain?"

I frowned. "That is a terribly long time to wait," I observed. And I realized that I was absolutely bursting to tell someone. _Anyone_. I wanted to crow of my prowess and manly ability to make a child-and not just any child. The babe curled up inside of Isabella might one day sit on the Lion Throne. My child...perhaps my son... I could scarcely comprehend it. In a matter of months, I had gone from an unmarried man, to a man expecting his first child. It was quite a transformation. Then I realized that Isabella had undergone an even more startling alternation in her circumstances. She had gone from a baron's daughter, a girl in her father's home, to a wife, a queen, a woman expecting a child.

"Not that long, really," she countered. "I'm barely with child, Edward. What if...what if something happens?"

"I won't allow it," I informed her arrogantly.

The familiar roll of the eyes. "Honestly, Edward, even _you_ cannot control such things."

"I can try," I said.

She looked ready to argue with me but then an odd look came over her face and she was bolting upright to hunch over the chamber pot again. I held back her hair as she trembled and emptied what little remained in her belly. When she sat back and I wiped her face again, I could not resist giving her a triumphant little smile.

"Try hiding _that_," I said as I pointed toward the chamber pot.

_** ~Duty~**_

Alice knocked lightly on the door at her usual hour. She had learned to knock on the second morning of her service to Isabella when she opened the door to waken her queen and instead found her king and queen in a rather compromising position. After a hasty exit, I had distinctly heard laughter. When I exited our chamber and Alice gave me a curtsy, I pretended as if the whole unfortunate incident had never occurred, though the laughter in Alice's eyes was rather harder to ignore.

Isabella's belly had finally calmed. She was pale, but not alarmingly so. I wondered how long she would be able to keep the secret however. The sight of the queen vomiting into a basin at the evening meal would surely incite speculation, I thought with more than a touch of smug satisfaction. I knew that part of my eagerness to inform the court of my impending fatherhood was a bit of pure male pride. I was honest enough to admit that to myself, intelligent enough to know I should not admit it to Isabella.

Half an hour later, Isabella and Alice emerged from the chamber. Isabella looked beautiful and regal in a dark green gown. She also looked even paler than she had when I had left her. Alice gave me a pointed look and I knew our secret was out with at least one person. I tried to disguise my grin, but I feared I did a poor job of it when Alice just shook her head. Really, I was detecting a distinct lack of respect for the crown lately.

Still, it was rather alarming to see Isabella so ill and pale. I needed to know if that was normal. I could have talked to my mother, but I had another thought. I made my way toward the rooms that Isabella had made into a nursery area for her niece and nephew when Emmett and Rosalie visited. All of the Swans now had permanent apartments inside the royal residence, though Charles had protested, for once I had had my way.

I knew that the twins woke up early. I also knew that Rose saw to much of their care herself. She had a nurse, but Rosalie assumed the duties of motherhood quite seriously. She even nursed them herself, which was rather rare in the upper echelons of our society. Even a baron's wife would hardly have considered the matter. But Rosalie was ferocious when it came to her children, and even Emmett had learned not to cross her.

So I was not surprised to find Rosalie on the floor, making faces at little Royce and Anna. She looked up at my entrance, clearly startled and started to get to her feet. I waved that notion away and sat down on a chair near the children. "They're growing," I observed.

Rosalie hesitated a moment, but as always, any mention of her children made her talkative. "Yes, I cannot believe how big they've gotten," she said. Then she tickled Royce's belly. "And this little man is such a glutton." She looked at me and laughed. "He eats almost as much as Emmett I fear." Then she stopped and blushed, as if aware of what she had said. She opened her mouth to speak and then thought better of it and dropped that particular line of conversation. We were quiet for a moment, watching the babies, listening to them babble and coo and stare at their mother, at me, and mostly at each other.

"Sire?" Rosalie finally asked quietly. "You have the look of a man with something on his mind. Is there anything you wish to discuss?"

I hesitated and then sighed. "Did you get very sick when you carried them?" I gestured toward the babies.

Rosalie looked surprised for an instant and then awareness slid over her features. "Yes, I seemed to empty my belly at the least provocation," she confided. "I could not abide the smell of quail and no one could dine on eel pie within twenty yards of me.. It was sheer torture to walk by the stables." She gave me a soft smile. "It is quite normal. Old Nell used to tell me that the sickness was my body's way of telling me that the babe was firmly settled and making its presence known." She shrugged. "It helped, but only a little," she admitted ruefully.

"Ah..." Well that was good news, wasn't it? Still, the thought of watching Isabella retch through the next nine months was not a happy one.

Rosalie rose to her feet and came to sit beside me. "She'll be fine, Sire," she said softly. "The women up north, we're stronger than your southern ladies, you know." She smiled slyly at that and I had to laugh. "The land is very harsh and we are a hardy race."

"She was very ill this morning," I said quietly.

"So quick," Rosalie murmured. "It is a blessing."

"I am not sure that Isabella feels it a blessing at the moment," I observed. I glanced at her. "We're not telling anyone yet, so I must beg for your discretion."

"And you shall have it," she promised. "Even if you were not my king, I love Isabella like a sister. I always have."

"Tell me...did she love your brother?" I was not threatened by Royce's ghost, of course. It was merely curiosity that prompted my question.

Rosalie smiled sadly and shook her head. "No, it was not love precisely. It was affection and companionship mostly. In fact, when he died, he had only barely begun to see Isabella as someone who would one day be a lovely young woman and not an annoying little sister." She paused and tilted her head, her eyes on her children. "Still, I think they would have dealt well together. They had much in common and she would have adapted well to the life of a baron's wife. She was born for it. She understands the hardships and challenges of the position."

"She's certainly adapted well to the crown," I noted.

"Isabella is head strong and reckless," Rosalie said. "But she is also very intelligent and generous and kind. It is a good combination for a queen, I think."

"Yes, I think so too," I agreed.

"Marriage agrees with her," Rosalie observed with a hint of laughter. I suddenly recalled that it had been Rosalie who had introduced Isabella to a rather more daring idea of love play.

"And with me," I replied with a little smirk. She looked at me and laughed.

"I suppose it is not a shock that Isabella has conceived," Rosalie murmured. "Considering how assiduously you have been attempting the task."

I stood up and looked at Rosalie, who also rose immediately. I kissed her hand. "I think I hear the demands of the kingdom calling me," I said dryly. I gave her a little wink.

"Coward," Rosalie teased softly.

"Prudent," I argued.

The quirk of her lips begged to differ, but she merely inclined her head and gave me a dutiful curtsey.

_** ~Duty~**_

Alice became a conspirator in our efforts to hide Isabella's delicate condition. Beyond one hasty, whispered conversation in which Alice merely asked for confirmation of her suspicions, we did not speak of the child. Isabella dashed from the bed every morning to empty her belly in the chamber pot and I would dutifully wipe her damp face with a cool cloth. Alice would bring a light bread and cheese repast that seemed to settle better than anything else in Isabella's rather delicate stomach.

Eventually, I grew tired of my mother's speculative looks however. I did not understand why we could not at least inform our families, but Isabella was adamant. And I was reluctant to argue with her since she was likely to run for the chamber pot at any moment. It was rather difficult to bicker with her when she was retching. I decided to indulge her as long as possible, but I knew we did not have long.

Isabella was not completely successful at hiding her growing fatigue or the way certain odors affected her. My mother's eyes were sharp and I knew she suspected something. I finally begged Isabella to share the news, with my mother at least, and put my mother's fears and conjectures to rest. I assured her that we could postpone making a formal announcement but it was only fair to inform my mother – and her parents – of her condition.

At last, Isabella agreed. Tonight, I had asked my mother to visit us in our private apartments and we were going to tell her the news together. Jasper was also going to be there and a messenger was being sent to the Swan family in the morning. Rosalie told me that Emmett already knew, having seen the truth in Rosalie's face the evening of our conversation in the nursery. I believed her, because I had seen the uncanny knack the two of them had for reading each other's thoughts and emotions.

_** ~Duty~**_

Isabella was pacing before the fireplace, stopping every now and then to sip at the goat's milk that had suddenly become a necessary part of her evening ritual. Personally, I found the stuff vile and could hardly abide watching her drink it. But Alice always made sure that the goat's milk was available to her.

Then the guards knocked and announced the arrival of my mother and Isabella's brothers. Rosalie had opted to stay with the children, but I was not surprised to see Emmett come with Jasper. He might already know, but he would not want Jasper to know that he had gotten the information earlier. He would probably play ignorant. Emmett was an intelligent man whose bluff exterior hid a sharp mind and uncanny instincts. When his time came, Emmett would be as formidable a baron as his father.

I took Isabella's hand and then drew in a deep breath. "Isabella and I wanted to share some news with you, and though we are not ready to make a public announcement, we wanted you, our families, to know," I stated. My mother's eyes went to Isabella and then her expression softened in both anticipation and joy and I knew that she had guessed our news. "Isabella carries our child," I said quietly. "In seven months time, the newest Masen will be born."

Jasper grinned and gave his sister a hug, whispering in her ear. "Congratulations, Sire," he said. "My sister looks quite happy at the news and I can only venture that you are thrilled."

I nodded. "Thrilled does not begin to encompass my feelings on the matter," I conceded. I brought Isabella's hand to my mouth and kissed it. "She has fulfilled my fondest desire."

"And what if it is a daughter, heh?" It was Emmett and his grin let me know that he was teasing us.

"Then I suppose I shall have to hire extra guards, for if she is as beautiful as her mother then I will have to keep her safely locked away," I answered. Isabella smiled at me and I knew my answer had found favor in her eyes.

My mother hugged me hard and then moved to Isabella. She brushed her soft hands over Isabella's and then embraced her. "My daughter," she said formally. "You bring much joy to this family."

Isabella curtsied to my mother, a gesture of respect and affection, especially since Isabella was the present queen and my mother was now the queen mother and therefore of lower rank. "I hope I give your son the heir he desires," Isabella said.

Mother smiled and laughed. "I have a feeling that Edward will be thrilled with a son or a daughter, Isabella, for no one could you fault you for being tardy at fulfilling your duties." They shared a little laugh and I sensed that there was some hidden, private joke at work between them. Then Isabella glanced at me and kissed me on the cheek.

"No, we have not been tardy," she allowed with a little roll of her eyes.

_**~Duty~**_

I watched Isabella as she slept. She was beautiful, too pale for my liking, but still stunningly beautiful. She did have a certain glow to my eyes, though she insisted it was merely the shimmer of green in her complexion now. I begged to differ. Something about her tugged at an unfamiliar tenderness inside of me. I had been fond of her when we married. I had been thrilled and proud when we discovered she carried our child. But now...now I wanted to coddle her, guard over her, make sure she was safe and happy and content. I was not entirely comfortable with the change my feelings were undergoing.

I had not expected the passion that raged between us. Isabella had a healthy but innocent sensuality about her and I had finally come to the conclusion that her unique upbringing had been partially responsible for that. She had not been taught, as so many females were, that passion in the marriage bed was wrong. Instead, she had been encouraged to cherish the gift. I was the lucky recipient of her attitude and I was well aware of that. So in the beginning, I had been sure it was the physical side of our marriage that had engendered such tenderness in me. Now, I was not so sure, because the physical side of our marriage was suffering.

It had been two weeks since we had made love and I was frankly feeling the lack. So why did I still feel this overwhelming need and desire to touch her and kiss her, even knowing that it would lead to nothing more than watching her sleep. I longed to wake her with kisses and caresses, to rouse her by thrusting inside of her soft heat and finding the haven I craved so often now. Even the greedy wretch that I was, however, I could not bear to disturb her slumber.

She was always so very tired. That worried me. I was not sure that it was normal. Rosalie tried to reassure me and tell me that Isabella's body was merely working very hard to grow a child, but I was not quite convinced.

In addition, I could admit that I was feeling rather put out lately. Sleeping so close to Isabella's tempting form and yet knowing it was denied me was frustrating beyond belief. I needed to find out if love play was safe while she carried, because even for the unbelievable joy of being inside Isabella, I would not risk our child. So perhaps I should get used to this sad state of affairs and find some solace in the hand that was currently and slyly sneaking up to cup hard flesh.

It seemed wrong to do such a thing in my marriage bed so I abandoned the effort and gritted my teeth, hoping the hardness would pass. I tossed and turned and stared at Isabella, almost as if I could wake her up by the sheer force of my will. But Isabella seemed as immune to that as she was to my arrogance.

I smiled, brushing the hair from her cheek. She had chided me today for my pride. Of course, her lecture had been somewhat ruined when she had to make a dash for the chamber pot again. My smile grew larger as I remembered her poking me in the chest with her finger to make her point and then the odd, though now familiar look that had come over her face just before she put her hand over her mouth and ran for the little screen that hid the pot.

I had the damp cloth ready when she was done and she moaned appreciatively at the feel of the cool water on her face. "By the gods," she had murmured, wiping at her mouth with the cloth after a moment. "I feel as if my toes are trying to come up through my mouth."

I kissed her forehead then, in apology and gratitude for all she endured for the sake of our babe. "It will pass soon," I said, hoping that Rosalie's words were true.

Isabella had sunk into my arms and wrapped her arms wearily around my waist. "Let us hope so," she murmured. "Let us hope so."

I closed my eyes and tried to picture her with her belly rounded and full. I imagined slipping in behind her as she slept and cradling that life, feeling the movements as they grew stronger. Yes, I hungered for her body in the most primitive of ways, but in truth it was a small price to pay, this aching in my loins.

I placed my hand over her still flat belly and I dreamed.


	13. Chapter 12: Contentment and Confessions

I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephenie Meyer. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

**Chapter 12: Contentment and Confessions**

The weeks passed slowly. The ginger tea that Rosalie suggested did help somewhat with the nausea, but it still struck Isabella at the most random moments. It was not too long before I noticed expressions of speculation on several courtiers' faces and eventually Carlisle warned me that we would not have too long before we had to reveal our secret to the court. I had not been surprised at his knowledge. Carlisle seemed to know everything about everyone. It had been he who had drawn the Swans to my mother's attention, so in a way, he was responsible for my current happiness.

As the days passed, I knew that Isabella was waiting for some news from her parents. The messenger had ridden hard for the north country and been instructed to wait for their reply. Still, it had been long enough and I found myself growing annoyed with the Swans for worrying my Isabella. In her state, she needed to be kept happy and contented, I reasoned. I intended that every member of the court understood that and her family were not exempted. Rosalie tried to soothe my temper, assuring him that both Renee and Charles would send their best wishes as soon as humanly possible. She reminded me that the roads were often uncertain, especially in the northern territories. I remained perturbed and trying very hard not to show my annoyance because it might worry Isabella.

Then early one evening, a guard entered our private chambers and announced that there was – at last – a message from the Swans. I wanted to borrow Isabella's eye roll, but I did not because it was not suitably regal enough. At least when I did it. When Isabella rolled her beautiful brown eyes, it was rather entrancing to watch, even when it was directed at me, as it so often was.

I set aside that rather puzzling observation and asked the guard for the message. He looked disconcerted for a moment and I held out my hand impatiently, waiting for the parchment. Instead, he jerked around and opened the door. Isabella gave a short, glad cry when it opened and surged to her feet as the smallest woman I'd ever seen came hobbling in.

She barely came above my waist. She looked too frail to be alive. And she was ancient. I was fairly sure she had been there to see the formation of the Mother Mountain. This had to be Old Nell. I wondered if she had personally delivered all of the Seven Brothers. I would not have been surprised.

Isabella pulled the little woman close to her, crying. Again. There had been a lot of tears in the royal chambers lately, I had noticed. "Nell!" Isabella finally said as she pulled away. "I can scarcely believe that you are here."

Nell sniffed. "Well, your messenger was quite put out when I made my intentions to accompany him back to court known. But I had my way, I did." She gave me a sly glance. "So...this is your young man?" Then Nell studied me for a long moment and dropped into a credible curtsy, though in truth I wondered how her old knees would take the strain. Apparently, she was for more limber and stronger than her frail appearance made seem possible.

"He's a handsome one," she remarked to Isabella as if I was not there. Then Nell smiled at me, revealing that she did not have a tooth in her head. She cackled with delight and clasped her hands together. "Well, I must say that it is a relief to see that our king is a real man, not some perfurmed dandy that cares only about the silks and diamonds that he puts over his pretty body." I was not quite sure whether I should be insulted or take her bizarre words as a compliment. Clearly, I was a man. I had put my child in Isabella's belly. I had made sweet love to her until she sighed and trembled beneath me. And over me. And beside me. I had to stop that line of thinking immediately or I would embarrass myself in front of Nell. It had been too long. Much too long.

So I did what was frequently the easiest thing to do around the mad northerners – I took it all in stride. I nodded, accepting her curtsy as my due. "It is an honor to have you in our court," I said formally.

Nell cackled again and gave Isabella a nudge. "And he's got pretty manners to match the handsome face." Then her expression grew serious and she took Isabella's face in her hands and studied her carefully. Finally, she gave a nod of satisfaction. She turned to me. "You've been taking very good care of your, Your Majesty."

And with those words, I developed a deep sense of respect and gratitude for Old Nell. I also felt myself relaxing for the first time since Isabella had confirmed my hopes.

Everything would be all right. Nell would make it so.

_**~Duty~**_

Nell's arrival was, of course, the final death knell in our attempt to keep the news of Isabella's pregnancy to ourselves. Nell herself reassured Isabella, telling her that the time of the most danger had passed and she predicted that Isabella would soon start feeling much better. I fervently hoped that was true, both for selfish _and_ unselfish reasons. I knew we would make the announcement and very soon.

When Isabella decided to sleep for a while on the third afternoon after Nell's arrival, I found myself seeking out the little old woman. In truth, it would have been more appropriate to have her summoned to me. But the woman was old and frail and had traveled a great distance very quickly in order to give her assistance to my wife. It was the least I could do, so I made my way toward the solar where I knew she would be chatting with Rosalie.

I had spent many hours with Rosalie and Emmett and their children during the past few weeks. Jasper I saw less often, but Emmett told me that the middle Swan brother had always been somewhat of a loner. I, however, had some intelligence that even Emmett Swan did not have. It seemed that Jasper had been seen in the company of a certain lady-in-waiting named Alice quite a bit lately. I ventured that Alice was leading Jasper Swan on a merry chase and I, for one, was pleased at the development. It would be a good match, if things worked out. It would bind the Swan family even more closely to the court, as Carlisle was a major figure and much respected by all.

I entered the solar to see Rosalie and Nell with their heads together, discussing something as they studied the twins. They both noticed me at the same moment and got to their feet, though Nell did so more slowly than Rosalie. They both gave me a curtsy and a bow of their heads. Honestly, I was beginning to get a bit annoyed with the whole ritual, especially when it came to Isabella's family. As often as we were in each other's company, all the curtsying and bowing was starting to grate.

Nodding impatiently, I motioned for them to sit. The twins began making obscene little noises and then chortling at each other. They reached out and touched each other's faces, sticking moist fingers in each other's mouths, rubbing drool all over each other's cheeks. I had even seen them suck each other's fingers. I failed to comprehend what made the activity so enjoyable to them, but apparently it did. They were very happy babies, unless Rosalie neglected to feed them in a timely manner. Then their screams had been known to drive grown men from the room, including the king of the realm, and I was not ashamed to admit it.

"Your Majesty," Nell said.

"How is Isabella...really?" I asked in a rush. "Is she healthy? Is she carrying as she should?"

Old Nell gave me a toothless grin. "She's just fine, Sire. Your little wife is doing just fine, as I would expect. I'd venture that any day she'll stop emptying her belly in a trice and you'll find yourself with a whole new set of concerns." Then she looked at Rosalie and the two of them began laughing like mad women.

I was not sure what was so amusing and I was most definitely sure that it did not bode well for me. Feminine laughter like that seldom did. But because it was beneath my dignity to press for answers, so I ignored them. I pressed my lips together to stem the flow of questions and studied the twins.

"Are they always so...damp?" I asked.

Rosalie gave a little chuckle. "There is often some sort of moisture when dealing with infants, Sire," she confirmed.

"Unh," I grunted. My mother hated it when I grunted, but I always like to think I had a rather regal sounding grunt.

I was struck by a sudden thought and my eyes shot to Nell. "Can you tell what Isabella is having? A boy or girl, I mean?"

Nell chuckled. "That's up to the gods, that is," she replied with a shrug. "There are signs and portents they say, but sometimes they are difficult to read, and not always accurate to my mind. I think it is best to wait for the birth, and not get your hopes up either way. Still, Your Majesty, the chances are good that eventually you will get that son you want." Her smile was knowing.

"Oh," I murmured. It would have been useful to know what to expect – a prince or a princess. Still, every day brought us closer to knowing for sure. And that thought brought up another concern.

"Do you think Isabella will have an easy time of it? Giving birth?" I studied Nell carefully, looking into her face for any betraying twitch of expression.

Instead, Nell gave me a serene smile that instantly put me at ease. "I expect that she'll do just fine." She said it with such certainty that I could not help but believe her. "All of the Swans do, even those by marriage," she added with a fond look at Rosalie. For her part, Rosalie sat up a little straighter as if proud of Nell's praise. Her eyes went, as they so often did, to little Royce and Anna. Indeed, there was much of which she could be proud. Any man would be thrilled to see his line continued in those two small faces. One healthy babe was a blessing, two were a miracle.

"Excellent," I said with great satisfaction. "Also...I...had..." I felt a traitorous blush begin to rise in my cheeks. I had known the court midwife since before I went into breeches and the thought of asking her about making love to Isabella caused my balls to crawl up into my body. It was somehow easier to broach the subject with Nell, who knew me only as King Edward and a husband. Since Rosalie had been the impetus behind one of Isabella's more daring moves in the bed, I decided that I had nothing to lose. "I had one more question," I finally blurted.

Nell nodded encouragingly.

"I wanted to know...that is, I was wondering if it was safe..." I took a deep breath. "Are we allowed to make love? I meant, is it safe for the baby for Isabella to..." I took another deep breath and was prepared to flounder about for more coherent words. Fortunately, Old Nell took pity on me.

"Isabella's body will let her know what it is safe to do, Sire," she replied.

It was only later, when I was alone in my study that I realized that although Nell had answered my question, she had done nothing to alleviate my curiosity or concern. I wanted to know if Isabella would even want to make love again during the pregnancy.

Nell's words were going to drive me mad. I just knew it.

_**~Duty~**_

All the next day, I tried to figure out a way to open up the subject with my mother without dying of mortification. My mother and I never talked about such things, it just was not done. My father and I had had one discussion about sex and that had mostly been about not confusing lust with love and how to avoid making bastards. It had been altogether embarrassing and we had both been relieved when it was over.

In truth, it had been Carlisle I had turned to when my own youthful curiosity had been too feverish to ignore. It had been Carlisle who had found me fondling a girl for the first time. It had been Carlisle who had gently warned me about a courtier that was trying her best to put her daughter into my bed in the hopes that I would marry her and make her queen. It had been Carlisle who had told me to make sure the women I bedded were clean and healthy, and he had even told me what to be wary of when I chose a partner, telling me the signs of disease. In many ways, Carlisle had filled the void that my father, busy with affairs of the kingdom, left in his wake.

For a brief moment, I pondered asking Carlisle about the troublesome sex and pregnancy issue. But then I realized that for one thing, Carlisle had never been married, and for another, he had no children. So it was that I found myself approaching my mother's chambers. Two things stopped me in my tracks.

The first was that the customary guards were not there. I knew that they would only have left at my orders or those of my mother. I could only assume that, for some reason, she wanted privacy. This was not unprecedented, especially since I had taken a wife. She was safe in this part of the castle, which was completely private and secluded from the rest of court.

The second thing that gave me pause was that I heard my mother's laughter. That, in itself, was not so surprising. She had a parrot and she often laughed at the spoiled bird's antics. But what_ was_ surprising was that I heard masculine laughter join hers.

I looked down the corridor in each direction, making sure I was alone. I had three options. I could interrupt and demand to know who would dare to be alone with my mother. I could sneak away and pretend that I had never been here or heard what I heard. Or three, and I was fairly certain that I was going to go with the third option, I could – gods help me – listen at the door like a common scullery maid.

With one more guilty glance along the corridor, I moved toward my mother's chamber door and pressed my ear to it. In spite of the fact I knew I was not behaving very regally, I listened.

I listened closely.

At first, I was surprised. Shocked even.

Then, the shock wore off and I began to think about what I was hearing and many things made much more sense.

My contemplations were swift and before I knew it, I was slipping silently away from my mother's chambers, wondering how best to put my plan into action.

But I never did put to rest the question of pregnancy and sex. I was going to remain frustrated, in more ways than one.

_**~Duty~**_

There were certain days in my life I knew that I would always remember. I would always clearly recall my first memory of seeing my father as the king, not just my father. I was being presented to some ambassadors from a distant land, and it was my first time to fulfill my role as heir in public. To my young mind, the large chair upon which my father often sat was just that – a chair. It was, in my eyes, simply his favorite place to sit. But on that day, I finally saw him as a king on the Lion Throne.

I remembered the day the court physicians told my mother and I that my father was dying. I could still hear the sound of her soft sobs and the feel of her hand clutching mine. My father had not died quickly or easily, instead the pain in his belly had eaten away at him slowly, tortuously.

I remembered the first time I had seen Isabella. Though it had not been so long ago, it was a memory I knew I would carry to my death bed.

Those were somewhat dignified memories, memories that I would be proud to share with my children one day.

The next memory was one that I would carry to my grave.

Two weeks after Nell's arrival, and one week after officially proclaiming the news of the impending arrival of an heir, I woke up, _not_ to the sound of Isabella retching, but to the feel of a soft warm mouth kissing down my chest.

It was a definite improvement.

Still half asleep, but hopeful, I brushed my hands over Isabella's hair. "How fare you this morning?" I rasped. Then I arched because her slender hands were tracing up my thighs and skirting around the place I most wanted them to be.

She laughed huskily and my cock twitched in appreciation at the sound. "I think I fare quite well," she answered and then placed a kiss on my belly.

"Isabella..." I warned. If she kept that up, she would find herself tucked beneath me with my cock buried in her heat in approximately three seconds.

She nipped at my belly and then slid upward to place an open-mouthed kiss on my nipple. It puckered and hardened just like hers did when I kissed them and I groaned, both at the sensation and the memory. I cradled her head and pulled her closer, encouraging her to suck and bite at her will. I would put myself at her mercy.

Isabella obliged me sweetly. After torturing me until I could barely recall my own name, she moved up farther so that she was straddling me. Then she leaned down and kissed me while I grabbed her hair to keep her in place. I was terrified that she would move away and rob me of the feel of her silken body on top of mine.

Moaning quietly, she deepened our kiss and her hips began moving.

"I think you have neglected me of late," she accused softly.

"Aye," I agreed, though in truth it had been me who had been neglected. I no longer cared.

"I think you should make good on your marital duties, Edward," Isabella commanded.

"Aye," I said again. I grabbed at her delectable backside and thrust against her. We both groaned.

Without another word, I flipped her and fitted myself between her slim thighs. There was some color in her cheeks and I smiled as I brushed my knuckles over the pinkness of it. Her eyes were bright and radiant, her smile dazzling and welcoming. "Is it...safe?" I finally asked. For the sake of the child, I would stop. But gods above, I did not want to.

Giving me a sly smile, she blushed lightly and I followed the color down her throat to her beautiful breasts. They were larger now, the nipples darker, a beacon to my mouth. I licked at them and she arched against me with a hiss. "If my body says yes, then it is safe," she finally answered.

I leaned up on my forearms. "And your body...does it say yes?" I asked in a husky voice. I pressed my hardness against her, as if to convince her body.

"Oh yes," she moaned. "Yes, a thousand times yes."

I gave a cry of satisfaction as I thrust into her. I set a gentle but steady pace, content just to be inside of her again. But Isabella wanted more and her heels drummed on my backside, encouraging me to move faster and harder. I was hesitant and she put her lips to my ear, "I'm fine, the baby is fine, but I need you, Edward. I _need_ you. Do not deny me."

Her words ignited a fire in my cock and I surrendered to it. I thrust hard and deep and she parried so sweetly that I thought I might die. After so long, it was especially tortuous but I endeavored to bring her to pleasure before I sought my own. I succeeded, but by the barest of margins.

"Isabella...my love!" And I spilled inside of her, feeling her body milk me of my seed. I shuddered and pulled her close.

After a long while, her eyes began fluttering closed and I knew she would sleep again for a bit. It was good for her to do so, and I decided that as soon as she was fast asleep I would slip out of our bed and start my day.

She nuzzled against me, her voice a sleepy murmur and her body warm and sated and relaxed. "Edward..." she whispered. I knew she was more asleep than awake and I smiled, brushing my hands over her hair. "Edward...I love you..." she said.


	14. Chapter 13: Panting and Puzzled

I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephenie Meyer. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

**Author's Note: I felt guilty about the cliff hanger, so here is another update. Please forgive me? Also, to my pleased surprise, ****topangaxjazmin made a thread for this little story on Twilighted. I can't imagine that it will be very controversial, so there probably won't be a lot to discuss, but I'm beyond thrilled that anyone would care enough to discuss it at ALL! So, I want to say thank you!**

**Chapter 13: Panting and Puzzled**

I was unsure what to make of Isabella's unintentional – and probably unconscious – declaration. For a long while I simply held her, stunned and silent. My first reaction when I recovered from my utter stupor was fear. No, it was abject terror. I had an almost irresistible urge to slip from the bed, saddle my horse and disappear for a few weeks and allow Isabella to recover from her insanity. Then I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, feeling the warmth and softness of Isabella against me.

All right...so she loved me. That was not so bad, surely? For a woman to love her husband seemed natural enough. Women were prone to such fancies and they were the reason the troubadours sing of romance and such. It was understandable that Isabella would think she loved me. She felt a great fondness for me, a certain tenderness to be sure. Yes, that was most definitely understandable. She had never felt passion or lust before, so it was only natural that she would think the feelings engendered by such strong emotions might be labeled as love. She was mistaken and overwhelmed, but in time her feelings would grow more familiar and more easily labeled.

I felt my heart slow down as I pondered that view of things, but the longer I contemplated it, the more I became convinced that Isabella felt something more than lust and affection. Perhaps, though I had never sought it, she truly _did_ love me. So...a new reality with which I must deal. Well, I was a man after all, and a king besides. Surely I could deal with one petite female loving me. What did I have to do after all, besides simply go on as I had? Yes, I could do that. She would love me, and perhaps it was better that she did so.

It made a certain sense for her to love me. Not only was I her husband, I was her king. She would naturally love me; it was her place to do so. I felt myself relaxing even more. Yes, of course it was _natural_ for her to love me. That could only be for the good. As her king, she would respect me. As her husband, she would feel a deep and abiding affection for me. But as the father of her children, yes, it was good and right that she should love me. It required nothing more of me, and if she had been seeking a declaration in return surely she would have voiced her feelings when she was fully awake and aware. So, she must realize that while I was inordinately fond of her, it would not be wise of me to love her. She understood, and like the wise woman she was becoming, she accepted that state of affairs. I was a lucky man.

With the feeling of having solved a particularly challenging problem of state, I slid from between the sheets and resolved to start my day without thinking any longer on Isabella's words. Her love was all well and good, but it had no place in my day-to-day affairs. My feelings for Isabella, which included desire, a healthy respect, and enduring affection, had no bearing on the rest of my life. Nor did her feelings for me, as intriguing and interesting as they were, need interfere in any way. We would keep things as they were, except that now I had the added reassurance of Isabella's love.

Nothing would change. Nothing.

_** ~Duty~**_

I was surprised when the guard knocked on my study door an hour before the evening meal. What Isabella had been doing with her day, I had no idea. I had remained assiduously on task with the affairs of state. Even Carlisle had mentioned how hard I was working and then had the gall to ask me if everything was all right.

I rolled my eyes at him, a bad habit I had picked up from a certain someone. I was not yet about to tell him that I had heard his voice in my mother's chambers. I was saving that bit of information for another occasion. I had not quite yet decided how to use it to my best advantage. So the sound of the knock startled me, as did the opening of the door to reveal one of Isabella's personal attendants after I bade my guard to open the door.

"Her Majesty requires your presence in her chambers if at all possible, Sire," the young man said with a deep bow.

I was alarmed.

Isabella never called for me. She never pushed or insisted. It was always I who looked for her. Then I smiled. Perhaps she was going to confess her love for me openly and while she was awake. I put aside all of my concerns about her saying such things openly. It was only natural that she would want me to know how she felt.

I got up eagerly from my desk and put aside the parchments I had been reading. Very well, I would indulge her. I would thank her politely and then we would attend the evening meal.

Making my way to our chambers, I halfway expected to see Isabella standing nervously before the hearth, perhaps with her hands clasped in front of her, perhaps pacing, or at least taking a bracing drink of wine.

Instead, when I opened the door to our bedchamber, I found... a wanton.

She stood before the fireplace, that much was true. But that was the only resemblance to my expectations. Instead of pacing nervously, or wringing her hands, she was displayed – and that was the only word I could use – in front of the blaze. Normally, a fire would not be burning at that time of day. But I could see where it might be necessary as she was wearing a night rail so thin that it looked as if it had been woven by fairies. I gulped as I stared at her, her nipples poking through the sheer fabric, the shadow of her sex revealed to my curious eyes. And my eyes were quite curious indeed.

"You..." I cleared my throat. "You asked for me?"

Isabella laughed and sauntered toward me with all the confidence of a skilled courtesan. She pursed her lips as she came to stand in front of me, her hands pressing lightly on my chest. "I have found that I have need of you, Edward," she murmured huskily.

I swallowed again, though my throat seemed thick. I wondered if I was getting ill.

Then she was pushing me. Pushing me toward the bed and stalking after me, giving me another little shove whenever I halted. I knew I should scold her for treating me like a common stable hand, but instead I wiped my hand across my brow. I was definitely feeling feverish. I hoped that whatever I had was not contagious. I did not want Isabella to get ill.

Finally, the back of my knees knocked against the bed and she gave another shove. I found myself sprawled on the mattress, staring up at her in bemusement. She climbed right up after me, lifting the excuse for a gown and giving me a tantalizing glimpse of her slim, white thighs. Gods, my throat was not the only thing that felt thick and full.

"Isabella?" The word came out in a croak.

She did not answer. I supposed that she was too busy untying laces and pushing aside my clothing, every item of which seemed to personally offend her if the look of concentration on her pretty face was any indication. "Isabella?" I asked again, more of a squeak that time than a croak. It was not an improvement.

Her hand slid inside my braies and she pulled out my cock, licking her lips and making me close my eyes with a groan. She leaned down even further and licked at my staff like a child licks a sweetmeat. Then she engulfed the head in her mouth and I was arching up into her heat before I could talk myself out of it.

She licked and tortured me, exploring every bit of that turgid flesh at her leisure. When I begged, she laughed at me. When I cursed, she gave my thighs a little nip in retaliation. Then when I finally realized that I was still stronger than she was, I hauled her away from her delicious torment and settled her over me, thrusting up into her and savoring her sweet cry.

I lost all sense of decorum and dignity. I grunted and pleaded and muttered incoherent words that no one could have made sense of, least of all Isabella who seemed to be in little better state than I was. We ground against each other, chasing our dual releases with single-minded determination. She achieved her goal first, and the sweet embrace of her flesh put me over the edge as well. She collapsed against me, kissing my heaving chest.

Looking down at her, it was hard to believe that the innocent, drowsy kitten in my arms was the brazen lover of just moments before. She sighed contentedly. "Sorry," she muttered without a hint of embarrassment. "I shall let you get back to your duties." With that, she got up from the bed and pulled a gown over the night rail, which she had never removed. She pulled back her hair, put on a headdress, and pinched her cheeks, which hardly needed the help since they were already bright pink.

She looked over her shoulder at me and giggled. "You might want to lace up before you back into the corridor," she advised. "I fear that your court is not quite ready to see quite so much of their king."

And she left me there – panting and puzzled.

_**~Duty~**_

When Isabella met me so that I could escort her to the evening meal, she looked as cool and gracious as any queen ever had. There was no hint of the bold hoyden who had practically attacked me just an hour earlier. When we got the table and the first course was served, I could only sit back and watch in amazement. Isabella had always had a healthy appetite, though in the weeks that the sickness struck, she had been hard pressed to keep anything down.

It seemed as if she was trying to make up for lost time in all things. She ate more than Emmett. She kept stopping pages and asking them to put a bit of this or that on her plate. She was sampling things that I knew she did not care for. And she ate all of it with much verbal appreciation. Even Emmett was shaking his head in admiration and amazement.

Rosalie watched her, smiling widely all the time. Old Nell had been given a place at a lower table as a faithful Swan family servant and one of the women who would deliver the next – hopefully – king of the realm. There had been some muttering about it, but I seated her next to Alice, who happened to be seated next to Jasper and I had ignored the complaints. It was one of the prerogatives of being the king. I liked having Nell close to Isabella and able to watch closely that Isabella ate enough.

Of course, that worry no longer plagued me.

_**~Duty~**_

The next few weeks passed. I was summoned to Isabella's side more times than I could count. I was starting to suspect that the guards knew exactly why she was always asking for me. There was now a glint in their eyes and I was quite certain I saw a smirk every now and then. They were amused at my wife's greed, though they might have been surprised that I allowed myself to be ordered about like a kitchen boy.

In either case, they would appear at my study door or wherever else I happened to be. I was beginning to suspect that Isabella had spies following me. I found myself listening for their footsteps and wondering just how long Isabella could keep up the pace. By the end of the first month of her change in all of her appetites, I was starting to feel a bit worn out myself. As Isabella blossomed, I began to wilt. It did not help when Rosalie observed that I looked rather pale. Nor did it help when Old Nell began making a "restorative" brew that she insisted I drink every day. It was honeyed mead along with some other ingredients that I didn't really care to know. In any case, it was tasty and did seem to give me a bit more energy.

Aside from a slight case of chafing and an almost irresistible urge to nap, I was a happy man – apart from one other thing.

I kept waiting for Isabella to repeat her sleepy confession. And I waited in vain. I would love her into a stupor and still the words remained unspoken. I told her how beautiful she was and she returned the sentiment, but nothing more. I spoke of my dreams for our child and she smiled contentedly, but did not speak of her feelings for _me_. I murmured how much I already loved the babe and she agreed but said nothing more. I began to feel frustrated. Then I told myself that I was relieved. Frustration followed again. Finally, I was perturbed.

_She _had made the declaration._ She_ had made me see her loving me as a good thing. S_he_ had been the one to change the rules in our marriage. And now she was remaining stubbornly silent? It was most unfair.

Isabella had said the words, and to my surprise I wanted to hear them again. And again. Somehow, between that first shocking, unwanted declaration and now, her love had become a necessity to me. More than an essential, I craved it. I wanted to hear the words. I _needed _to hear the words.

But there were no more sleepy confessions. So I began to plot.

_**~Duty~**_

I reverted back to the days of our courtship. I presented her with old books and blooms from the garden. I even went so far as to get Sugar Bear a companion, daring Old Nell's wrath to do so. Isabella took it all in stride, smiling her gratitude sweetly and telling me I was a dear, dear man. She _loved_ the flowers, she _loved_ the new puppy, and she _loved_ the book.

But apparently, what she did_ not_ love was me.

And I decided that I could not have that.

_**~Duty~**_

In the midst of all my plotting to get Isabella to say those words again, I turned my devious mind to another direction as well. When my mother approached me and told me that she wanted to go to her manor by the southern sea, I saw my opportunity.

I gave my agreement with alacrity. "The baby will not be here for five months," I told her. "Go, spend some time away from court. Make sure your manor is in good repair." I smiled at her. "Perhaps you should take Carlisle with you," I suggested innocently. "His advice is unparalleled, and it would give you suitable company."

Mother looked surprised for a moment and then gave me a sharp, measuring look. Finally, she nodded her agreement. "Yes, very well," she said. "It will be nice to reminisce on the way about our younger days together."

Well, I thought with satisfaction. I had done almost all I could do there. Only one thing remained and I would take care of that before they left. It usually took Mother two or three months to complete a journey and visit to her southern estates, which would give me plenty of time to get the words I wanted to hear from Isabella. And it would give Carlisle time to make his suit.

All was going according to plan.

_**~Duty~**_

"Carlisle, my mother wishes to journey to her southern estates," I said during an afternoon meeting in my study later that day. "I suggested to her that you accompany her."

Carlisle looked surprised but not displeased. No, he was not displeased at all. Good, then I had not misread the situation. Or rather, misheard it. "As you wish, Sire," Carlisle replied smoothly, ever the perfect courtier. I got to my feet and went to the window so that he would not observe my expression. He was devilishly good at reading my face and I did not need that at the moment.

"I fear I have been selfish," I said.

"In what way, Sire?" he asked.

"Well, I fear that my mother has forgotten that I am a man now, indeed, I am a husband and soon to be a father. Her duty to the crown is done," I said the words with a great deal of satisfaction. "My mother has been a good queen, but we have asked enough of her. It is time for Isabella to take up those duties, and though she is young and still learning, my wife shows the aptitude and compassion necessary for the job. And I think it is time for my mother to find some happiness for herself. My mother is a warm and loving woman, and I begin to think that another marriage might bring her some joy." I turned to him, my expression bland. "What think you of that?"

Carlisle gaped at me for a moment, looking very much like a fish that had been thrown up on the bank to gasp out his last. "I...I hardly know what to say, Sire," he stuttered. Carlisle never stuttered.

I shrugged. "Think on it, and perhaps start making a list of suitable candidates?" I suggested.

Carlisle's lips pressed together. "With all respect, Sire, your mother has already married for the state once. Perhaps this time, if there is to be a next time, she might follow her heart?" he countered.

I assumed a look of surprise. "But Carlisle, she doesn't have a heart's desire to follow! If she did, that would be one thing, but since she does not, a list of suitable men might help her make up her mind."

He immediately looked pained and took a deep breath. "We cannot know that, Sire. Perhaps she has a secret..._regard_ for someone and has feared to reveal it. She knows you loved your father dearly, Sire, and out of respect for his memory she might..." Carlisle's words trailed off. I allowed myself to look skeptical.

"Well..." I murmured, tapping at my chin with a finger. "That is certainly an unanticipated possibility." I put some annoyance into my voice. "After all, who would dare to look so high as the queen mother?" I arched one brow at him.

"Well, I cannot say...Sire...I am only...putting forth..." Carlisle nodded abruptly. "I shall consider a list of acceptable suitors should your mother wish to remarry," he said tightly. "What are your requirements?" he asked as he prepared to write them down.

I began pacing as if formulating my thoughts on the matter. "Well, I suppose the requirements are simple, for my mother is past childbearing age and has served our nation well." I stopped and smiled as if suddenly inspired. "My requirements are this: that she should love him and he should love her." I nodded as if that settled the matter. "Good, let us move on to the next order of business."

Carlisle cleared his throat. "No title, Sire?" he asked. "No need for royal blood or riches?"

I shrugged. "I shall give her and her new husband titles enough, and in regards to riches, my mother's needs are simple and she has ample income for them. As for royal blood, my own bride has none and we're doing well enough. So I suppose I would be a hypocrite to require it for my mother's match, wouldn't I?"

Carlisle smiled and nodded his agreement.

Honestly, I had done everything but make the proposal for him. If he failed to make his claim after all of my scheming then he did not deserve Esme Masen.

_** ~Duty~**_

I had never thought the day would arrive, but I was growing weary of lovemaking. It was not the act itself, so much as the burden on the equipment necessary to make it happen. My staff was worn out, chafed, and ready to declare a rebellion.

Honestly, where did she get the stamina and still manage to grow a child at the same time? Of course, she _was_ eating enough to feed a small army. Every night, she would kiss and touch and play until I was reduced to a sweating heap of carnal excess.

And still, every day, Isabella summoned me yet again. Of course, now she had gotten even more daring. She was seeking me out herself instead of sending the guards to fetch me. Just yesterday, I had hidden under my desk and listened to her call out for me. I had had a mad desire to laugh when she left my study, never spying me under the big desk. My cock and I enjoyed a much needed afternoon of rest and relaxation. That I had to take it in a horse's stall, sleeping on sweet-smelling hay, bothered me not at all.

But Isabella was sly. It was clear that I would have to be even cleverer.

I was going to find a new hiding place so that my cock and I could recover for a bit. I dearly hoped that the child in her belly was a boy, because at this rate, my staff would soon be a stub and there would be no more opportunities to get my heir.

Suddenly, all of the looks between Rosalie and Old Nell began to make sense. They knew that Isabella was going to hunt me down and play with me like the predator she was. She would have her way, no matter what. And no hiding place would serve for very long. Isabella would have me. Again and again, no matter how tired I grew or how tender certain parts of my body might be. Still...I would not object too strenuously.

All in all, it was not such a bad way to go. One might even say I was willing to die for my realm.


	15. Chapter 14: Waiting for Isabella

I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephenie Meyer. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

**Author's Note: I must confess that I actually drove my husband to hide from me a few times. As he said during my last pregnancy, "I'm not as young as I used to be. A little recovery time would appreciated." I pretty much ambushed him at any given opportunity. And I think it is normal to be at either end of the spectrum – insatiable or "touch me with that thing and you die."**

**Chapter 14: Waiting for Isabella**

I stared at Isabella as she fell asleep, practically willing her to say the words before she succumbed to her exhaustion. _Those _words. Those magic little words that I had not even realized I wanted. Instead, she snuggled up against me and muttered, "...find...him...hiding..." Then she frowned and I kissed at the frown line. She gave a sleepy little murmur and flopped her arm on my belly and I knew that all chances of hearing the words this night were gone.

While she slept, content and satisfied for the moment at least, I let my fingers trace up and down her arm. Just that morning, my mother and Carlisle had left for her southern estates. Mother promised a dozen times to be back in time for the baby's birth, which was still over four months away.

The pregnancy seemed to be progressing quickly, or perhaps I was just exhausted much of the time and the days blurred together. Just two weeks ago, Isabella had gotten up from the bed and stood up and suddenly...there was her belly. Gone was the flat belly of the girl I had married, and in its place was the sweetly curved flesh of the woman who would give birth to my child. We had both stared at it in amazement.

Surely it had not been that large when we retired the night before, nor when she rode me like I was some sort of stallion put out to stud. Honestly, there were times when I thought she preferred my staff to any other part of me. In truth, it was not really a burden. Yes, there were times when I was a bit weary, but when I saw how soundly Isabella slept at night, I realized that she too, must often be tired. And her seemingly boundless appetite for me was reassuring in a way that sweet words would not have been. I consoled myself with the thought that surely she did not find marriage to me distasteful, that something bound her to me other than duty. Her lovemaking had grown increasingly daring and provocative and I had considered how fortunate I was more than once.

But I was getting distracted by thoughts of a naughty nature, as I so often did because of Isabella. I would not have thought it possible after the activities of the day. Yet there it was, stirring in interest against my belly. Which brought me back to _her_ belly.

It was nicely rounded now, giving evidence of the child that slumbered within. I could not help a feeling of awe as I studied it. Isabella was slightly turned on her side and the soft curve of our child rested against me. So far, I had not felt the babe move, but Isabella had felt some stirrings just a few days ago and Nell assured me that it would not be long before I too could feel the baby's movements.

I was most anxious for that to happen. Until the slight but unmistakable growth of her belly, the child had been an abstract idea almost, and I had hardly been able to comprehend the changes that were coming. But now, staring at hard evidence of the child's existence, it was hard not to realize that our child was real and that it would be here in a matter of months. If it was a boy, I would have assured the Masen line for another generation. If it was a girl, we would still have high hopes of a boy in the future. A healthy babe at all would be a great blessing and a promise of things to come. The fact that Isabella had quickened so soon was unbelievably promising. Other than the sickness early on, she seemed to be moving through her pregnancy with little difficulty.

Putting my hand on her belly, I closed my eyes. I was both content and frustrated. Content because it seemed I had everything I had wanted and needed. I was frustrated because it felt as if Isabella was holding back from me the last piece needed for complete happiness.

The question was, _why_ did I want the words so badly?

_**~Duty~**_

We were eating a private meal in our chambers. I sensed that at times, the constant and avid eyes of the court turned in her direction made her weary. So every now and then I liked to give her the one gift that was difficult for a queen to get – privacy. I knew that as she got closer to the birth, privacy would be even less likely. By the time the birth was a few weeks away, all eyes would be studying her intently and waiting for any signs that her time had come.

She had eaten the first and second courses with a gusto that always amused me. I was eating more now too, at Nell's insistence. The wizened old woman had had the gall to tell me that I needed to keep my strength up and then she had cackled wildly. If it had not been beneath my dignity to do so, I would have berated her for her amusement at my expense. As it was, I could only ignore her.

I reached over and took Isabella's hand in mine. "How are you feeling, love?" I asked before placing a kiss on the palm of her hand.

Looking disgruntled for a moment that I had slowed down her meal, Isabella shifted her utensil in her grip and took another bite. "I'm feeling...quite good actually." She leaned back and laughed. "In truth, I'm feeling a bit like a puppy that has eaten too much and can no longer move."

It was true that every day seemed to signal some new growth in her belly. The curve was more defined than it had been just days ago and she said that she was noticing more movement. I was struck by a feeling of shyness as I looked at her lovely face illuminated in the light of the fire and the candles. "You are so beautiful," I murmured, unable to help myself.

She blinked at me for a moment. "Thank you," she whispered. Then she startled and gasped. She took my hand and placed it on her belly. "Can you feel that?"

I pressed a little harder, still mindful of the tiny child. I waited, but in vain. Finally, I had to admit defeat and I shook my head with some sadness. "Not yet," I said. "But Nell says soon."

Isabella nodded and sighed. "It's still so odd to feel that inside of me," she confessed.

"I cannot wait to feel it too," I told her. "I must admit that I am a bit jealous."

"You love this baby already, don't you?" she asked with a note of surprise.

I thought about it for a moment and then nodded. "I do," I admitted. "I want to know that he or she will always be happy. I don't want anyone or anything to hurt them. I would sacrifice my own happiness for theirs. And sometimes...sometimes, I wish that our child would not grow up with the burden of the crown. But I know it is useless to wish for such things because they are simply a fact of our existence."

"Well, our child will have you for a father," Isabella said. "And I know you will do what you can to keep the burden from becoming too much, too soon."

"I want to protect you too, you know," I said after a long silence. Something flickered in her eyes, some emotion I could not name. Then she smiled softly and leaned forward to give me a gentle kiss.

"I know you do, Edward," she whispered. She cradled my face in her hands. "You will work it all out eventually," she said in a voice so low that I was not sure her words had been intended for my ears.

I felt strangely at peace and we spent the rest of the evening in quiet conversation. We played chess and she trounced me soundly, and then claimed the use of my body as forfeit. I had never been quite so happy to pay a debt in my life.

_**~Duty~**_

Isabella had been in a particularly amorous mood the day before. The new curves of her body did not seem to hamper her healthy lust in the least. Even this morning, I had woken to find her licking a path down my belly. I had not argued the point too much. In truth, I had quite enjoyed starting my day that way. But because Carlisle had accompanied my mother that meant much more of the burden of day-to-day government administration had fallen on my shoulders. I had delegated some of the less important matters, but in truth I liked knowing what was going on in my kingdom. As my father had told me, a king who operates in ignorance may find himself deposed in the same manner.

In any case, it had been a long and grueling day and I decided that I had earned myself a small respite. I had grown accustomed to Isabella's needs and was happy for the most part to indulge her. Truthfully, I had started to appreciate this new and unexpected side of her personality. But I knew I still had a lot of work ahead of me, and no doubt Isabella would want to "play" again this evening. I was no longer a youth, so a nap might help me live up to all of my responsibilities. Thus it was with no sense of guilt that I found my stallion's stall and settled in for a small rest on the fresh hay that awaited me.

I awoke with a start, wondering what had disturbed my slumber. Then I realized it was my stallion, Rakis, nickering in greeting and nodding his great head to show off. The traitor. He had heard her voice and he had deliberately drawn Isabella's attention. I watched with apprehension as her face peered at me over the edge of his stall. "What are you doing in a stall, Edward?" she asked, tilting her head.

"Uh...I was...I thought...I was thinking of going hunting and I sat down to have a talk with Rakis and I grew...sleepy, yes, I grew sleepy," I answered, hardly able to meet her gaze.

Isabella bit her lip and let herself into the stall. Rakis obligingly moved aside, giving her room. I was tempted to turn him into a gelding. I let him know that with my eyes. Isabella put her hand on my hip and moved closer. Rakis did not flinch from her proximity but I did.

"Isabella..." I warned. "The stable hands..."

She laughed and shook her head. "Will not come near whilst I am here with you," she promised as she began kissing my throat. I groaned, knowing the game was up and I had been well and truly caught. She fell to her knees and I could do nothing more than bury my fingers in her hair. She made quick work of my laces; her fingers had gotten increasingly nimble and familiar with my garments. I daresay she was more skilled than most man servants. When her fingers closed around my staff, I felt my head fall back and I leaned heavily against the stable wall.

I knew there was nothing to be done but do my duty, but sometimes duty was sweet indeed. I had to laugh at my own musings as I watched her lips close over me, but my laughter fled quickly at the sensations of her mouth. "By the gods, Isabella!" I knew my voice was too loud and I also knew that if anyone happened to hear my words they would have a fairly good idea of what was occurring in the stable.

And I couldn't bring myself to actually give a damn.

Isabella had taken to the concept of love making with a ferocity and attentiveness that almost scared me. I felt Rakis stir restlessly behind me and I knew that, for reasons of safety, we needed to move. I tugged her to her feet and she gave me the most adorable pout that I, of course, had to kiss away. "I fear we shall anger Rakis," I said. Isabella laughed and bit her lip, looking for another trysting place.

I put my finger to her lips, urging her to quiet, and pulled her into an adjoining and empty stall. The smell of fresh, sweet hay would forever bring to mind that afternoon. I decided that it was time to regain the upper hand and turn the tables on my amorous little queen. It was time to show her who had the biggest crown in the family. So I pushed her up against a wall and slid my hand beneath her skirts. Her most secret flesh was unfettered and open to my caress. She was warm and damp with welcome and I found that unbearably arousing. "My naughty little queen," I admonished playfully and nibbled at her ear.

"I fear my king is no better behaved," she panted and then arched against me as I slid two fingers inside of her.

"No, he's no better," I agreed. My laces were already conveniently undone and it took no effort at all to push her skirts up out of my way and a moment later, my cock was pressing home, taking the place of my fingers. Isabella's head knocked lightly against the wall. I put my hand behind her head to cushion it but she didn't seem to notice the slight pain. It was a balm to my ego to see how quickly she fell prey to her lust – almost as quickly as she could arouse me.

I pulled back languidly and kissed her throat then thrust back inside of her slowly, feeling her stretch around me. I could not help the groan that ripped out of my throat. "Oh...Isabella..."

"Harder, Edward," she urged and tightened her legs around my waist.

"So demanding," I teased but my voice was as breathless as hers.

"Quit talking and move," she ordered.

I laughed but obeyed nonetheless. Soon I was grunting and thrusting, almost afraid of how much I wanted her. Isabella, however, never faltered nor gave any indication that I was being too forceful. Finally, she gave a short cry that I muffled with my own mouth and then her body squeezed me, rippling and caressing my cock with her satisfaction. I answered with my own cry of completion. I leaned heavily against her, pressing her between my body and the wall. I just needed a moment to regain my composure...and my breath.

Eventually, I slid from inside of her with a little moan of regret and she slipped down my body, her skirts falling into place. I was still breathing heavily as I made myself presentable. I decided then and there that rest was overrated. I took her hand and we walked out of the stable. I assumed my most royal air, holding my chin high and my shoulders pulled back. Only the pink of Isabella's cheeks gave any indication of what we had been doing. There might have been a few amused glances, but I ignored them. All was in order and we looked as regal and dignified as we should.

At least, that was what I thought until I pulled some hay out of my hair an hour later.

_**~Duty~**_

Isabella and I had fallen into a pattern of dissolute behavior. Still, I managed to console myself that finding pleasure with my wife could not truly be a bad thing. I no longer had to hide under my desk, unless it was because I was teasing her. I found that she liked to track me down, some latent predatory tendencies I supposed. When she discovered my hiding place, I was, of course, at her mercy. Nell made sure I continued drinking her "restorative" concoction twice a day at least.

I was surprised one afternoon when the guard announced a visitor. I knew it could not be Isabella, as she had left only an hour before. Besides, she would have dismissed the guard herself so that she might torment me in privacy.

It was Jasper Swan and he looked nervous. That was unusual for Jasper. Out of all the Swans, he was the calmest, viewing the world with a sense of lazy amusement. Still, he was a lethal warrior and had the promise of being a brilliant tactician. He had taken to the life of a soldier with enthusiasm and genuine liking. "Sire," he said and swallowed hard.

"Sit, Jasper," I invited. I found myself wanting to smile as I viewed Isabella's brother. I had an inkling of what brought him to see me. I sat back in my chair and studied him. "What might I do for you?"

"I have come to ask your permission for marriage to a young lady," Jasper said quietly. "Carlisle's niece...Alice..."

"I see," I murmured. "So you've decided that you want to make her your wife, have you?"

"Yes, Sire," Jasper answered, his throat moving as he swallowed hard. "I do. And she wishes the same."

"You realize that by marrying Carlisle's niece, you will become a wealthy man one day, don't you?"

He frowned. "I'm not sure I understand, Sire."

I laughed. Leave it to Carlisle's niece to keep her suitor in the dark. She was as sly in her own way as Carlisle was. "Alice is Carlisle's heir," I explained. "She will inherit his wealth and his manor." I smiled. "As her husband, you will have a manor of your own, and it will be larger than Emmett's," I added, being quite familiar with the friendly rivalry between the brothers.

Jasper gave me a wicked grin. "Somehow, the little minx neglected to mention that," he said with a shake of his head. "Gods, I love her..." he added quietly.

The look on his face was so content, so proud and joyous that for a moment I felt as if I could not breathe. He took strength from loving his Alice, found joy in surrendering a part of himself into her care.

Was that the missing piece? Had my father been wrong?

_**~Duty~**_

Isabella was asleep again, falling into slumber with a quickness and ease I envied. Now my nights began in exactly the same manner. I would stare at Isabella for an hour or so, watching her as she slept and listening for her little murmurs. I was not sure if she had always talked in her sleep or if it was a result of the pregnancy. In the past, before the baby, I had usually fallen asleep at the same time as Isabella, and thus I might have missed her nocturnal conversations. So I kept my vigil.

And Isabella continued to frustrate me. I had entertained, however briefly, the thought that Isabella was toying with me, but I could never seem to find any indication of subterfuge when I gently led the conversation to her feelings for me. If she loved me, and I was sure she did, then she was not ready, for reasons I had yet to determine, to reveal that love.

One day, I would discover what held her back and I would remove that obstacle, no matter what it took.


	16. Chapter 15: The Care and Feeding of Men

I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephenie Meyer. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

_**Author's Note: Okay, I was going to be strong. I was going to stick to my guns and NOT post this until Monday. Apparently, I am a wimp. So...here's the update early. I'm having an incredibly bad week and writing this story makes me happy, so I hope you enjoy reading the update as much as I did writing it!**_

**Chapter 15: The Care and Feeding of Men**

Isabella's belly grew apace, providing us both with an endless source of amazement and awe. It became my habit to waken early so that I might have just a few moments of studying Isabella and the curve of her body that held such promise. Slowly, the child within became less an heir than a son or daughter. It was an important distinction for me. Yes, having an heir was important to me. I could not pretend that it was not. I wanted to give my people that security and reassurance of seeing their ruling house's line assured for another generation, and hopefully many generations to come. But the sense of excitement I felt growing inside of me was very personal. The joy I felt had nothing to do with my people and everything to do with myself.

Somehow, Isabella found the time, in between stalking me and devouring all the food in the castle, to sit down with Old Nell and Rosalie. The three of them talked for hours about childbirth, infants, and other topics which they immediately stopped discussing the moment they spied me. I was starting to feel a tad bit paranoid. In any case, whatever those particular topics were, they were amusing as they would almost invariably fall into fits of laughter and Isabella would look most guilty indeed. It was, of course, beneath my notice, to comment on their behavior.

Soon, Alice was joining in on their discussions, no doubt getting their advice on married life and the handling and care of men, which struck me as a bit dangerous. I pondered warning Jasper but could not quite decide how to word my counsel. I considered asking Emmett to assist me in speaking to his brother but then I worried that my interference would seem arrogant. It was not my place as king to speak to Jasper. His blithe ignorance continued to eat at me and I wondered if he had any idea of what being a husband, and hopefully a father, was like. I had hard-earned wisdom and I wanted to share it.

Rosalie and Emmett had been thrilled, of course, to learn of Jasper's betrothal to Alice. Rosalie had liked Alice immediately and Isabella had already been fond of Alice before her brother had even seen her. Isabella was thrilled that her friend would soon be her sister. When the happy couple was asked to name a marriage date, they made a consultation with the court astrologer and a date was picked.

I began spending more time with Isabella's brothers. I found their company relaxing and they gave me the ability to simply be Edward while I was with them. They had the same blunt but honest ways of their father. They accepted me as Edward Masen, Isabella's husband, and the father of her unborn child. It was both freeing and exhilarating. When we were in public, I was Your Majesty or Sire. When we were in private, I was often simply Edward, especially when we were discussing family issues.

"Well, Jasper," I said one afternoon as I sat in Emmett's private solar with the Swan brothers. I had received a tribute shipment of wine from the south and we were currently judging its worth. So far, it had been deemed worthy of the royal palate. But we had all decided that further testing was necessary and we were endeavoring to accomplish that. We were very devoted to our task. "I hear you have been given a date to make your vows."

Jasper grinned and ducked his head. He was not the most talkative of men, but he was warming up slowly. "Yes, Sire," he replied. "The best date for us to wed is apparently about a month before your babe is due to arrive in this world."

"Then your parents must come for the wedding and stay for the babe," I suggested. Emmett nodded. And we all took a gulp of wine as it seemed appropriate.

"Rosie and I would like to stay for the birth as well, and then when it is all over and the babe is settled fat and happy in the royal nursery, we can travel back with my parents," he suggested.

I nodded my agreement. "Isabella would have my head if I did not insist you stay for her lying-in." I touched my goblet to Emmett's and then Jasper's. And we all took a drink.

Jasper grinned again and nodded his head. The two brothers exchanged a look. "You're looking better rested," Jasper noted with a hint of laughter in his voice.

"Uh, yes...well..." I stammered. I took a large swallow of wine. Damn, it was empty. Again.

Emmett guffawed, clearly amused at my efforts to avoid discussing my exhaustion and the reasons behind it. Finally, Emmett's laughter died away and he sighed, leaning forward on his elbows. "Sire...Edward," he amended, and I knew that signaled his desire to speak to me as his sister's husband and not as his king. I nodded my permission. "Edward, you might think that no one knows what my little sister is like, but you're wrong." He glanced at Jasper, who just looked uncomfortable. "What I am trying to say is that I also looked very tired when Rosalie carried the twins."

I looked at him in amazement. It struck me for the first time that while the women might get together and commiserate fondly with each other about the men in their lives, there was nothing keeping men from doing the same. My wife and Rosalie and Alice and Old Nell might find amusement at my expense. They might share secrets that no masculine ears would ever hear. They might laugh and goad each other to daring acts that both pleased and shocked the men in their lives.

But I could share with Emmett and Jasper. I could speak to them of some of the things that puzzled me about Isabella. I could ask their advice and know that my privacy would not be betrayed. Even if my position as king did not hold their tongues, I knew my place as Isabella's husband _would_. I was, for all intents and purposes, safe in confiding in them. I took a deep breath and waded in telling myself it was no different than taking part in my first joust. I just had to gather my courage and take the first leap. My courage was helped in no small way by the large quantities of wine we had consumed.

"I fear I shall look down one day to find that my beloved staff has fallen off," I said mournfully. There was a moment of shocked silence and then Emmett gave a bark of laughter.

"I swear, Rosalie was determined to see if it was possible to wear out that appendage," Emmett agreed. "Every time I turned around, there she was, looking at me with that gleam in her eyes and I knew..." 

I groaned. "And 'tis so sweet, but honestly, I fear she shall unman me and that one day she will attempt to work her wiles and my staff will simply lie there, limp and unwilling and I shall never be able to face her again."

"Well you know, Edward, there are other ways of pleasuring an insatiable wife," Emmett offered.

Jasper grimaced. "I'm not sure I'm ready to hear this conversation," he said tightly.

"You're getting married," Emmett told him. "And with any luck, you'll soon be in Edward's place, avoiding your wife while she hunts you down because the babe in her belly has made her overly amorous."

"I don't think I want to hear this conversation," Jasper said again.

"That is just really too bad," Emmett said and gave me a friendly nudge. "If more men talked to each other, instead of brooding silently in a corner, then we might actually have a chance against these women of ours."

I snorted, setting aside my royal dignity. "As if we have a chance," I disagreed. "They're plotting against us constantly. They sit there, huddled together and laughing at our expense, plotting our downfalls."

"So we should do some plotting of our own," Emmett suggested.

"Alice will be different," Jasper said in a pained voice.

Emmett and I laughed until we cried at that. I thumped Jasper on the back and shook my head at that bit of foolishness. "Oh, Jasper, your naivety would be amusing if it wasn't so dangerous."

"I can guarantee you that Rose and Isabella and even Old Nell are currently plotting ways to put you right under your pretty bride's delicate little heel," Emmett said. "And there you'll stay for the rest of your life."

Jasper gave a little humph of disagreement. "It is true, you know," I said with a nod. "They let us _think_ we are in charge but in truth, their delicate little hands are pulling at our reins, moving us this way and that at their pleasure. They nod and smile and play coy, but it is all a diversion to keep us from feeling the hands on our leading strings."

Emmett poured us all another goblet of wine and we toasted our conniving little brides. "He's right you know," Emmett said. "Even Edward, who is our _king_, is not immune. And if a king cannot claim to be the head of the household, then what hope do mere mortals like you and I have?" He nudged his brother and sent a sly look my way. "Think you not that our little sister has led our liege on a merry dance? Why, I have it on great authority that she hunted him down in his own stalls and had her way with him!"

Jasper snorted so hard that wine came out of his nose and Emmett and I found this quite funny. "Gods, I did not need to hear that," Jasper said, closing his eyes after he had wiped his face.

It was a good thing that I had the wine to numb my embarrassment. "Ah, gentleman, your sister torments me more than you know," I finally said, feeling a little melancholy in the way of drunks.

Emmett topped off my wine, though in truth, my head was already spinning. "Uh oh," he said. "What ails you now?"

I blinked at him. Both of him. "She won't say the words," I finally confided.

The Emmetts looked puzzled. When had Jasper gotten so blurry? "What words?" Emmett asked.

"_The_ words, the most important words in the world," was all I managed to say. "I think I want to sleep now." Then I felt myself sliding out of the chair and I felt Emmett move to catch me. I would worry about the indignity of it all tomorrow, I decided.

_**~Duty~**_

I slept through the evening meal. And the night after it. I vaguely remembered the Swan brothers carrying me to my chamber and helping Isabella settle me on our bed.

I finally woke up just at dawn with a headache that would have felled Rakis. I groaned and grabbed at my head and I heard a sleepy chuckle from the warm, feminine bundle curled up behind me. Her belly was pressed against my back and she had thrown her leg over mine.

"What ails you, Edward?" Isabella asked, but I could tell by her voice that she knew exactly what ailed me.

"Headache," I croaked. Gods, when had dawn gotten so bright? Who had stuffed my mouth with bits of old horse hair? And why hadn't the top of my skull exploded yet? I would feel ever so much better once it did.

Isabella giggled and buried her face in my back. "My brother Emmett wants me to give you a message," she screamed. To be fair, she might have been whispering. It all felt the same at that point.

I clutched at my head and tried to decide if I wanted to vomit or die. Dying was looking like a fairly good option, and besides, I might have already provided my people with an heir. I groaned but the sound set my head to swimming again – and pounding. Oh gods, the pounding. By the Seven Brothers, those southerners knew how to make wine! If I lived through this, I would place an order for several more casks.

I felt Isabella slide from the bed and I allowed myself the small luxury of knowing that she would not expect me to perform this morning. Then I immediately found that I was rather disappointed that I would not be doing so. Finally, I decided that the wine had pickled my brain and I should just proceed with the dying. I heard the door open, but unless we were being invaded, I did not care who it might be. There was a murmur of voices and some soft laughter that sounded like Isabella. Then there was an answering cackle that could only be Nell. I closed my eyes and pretended that neither of them existed.

The bed moved and I felt Isabella's weight shifting beside me. "Edward," she whispered.

"Go away," I rasped. "I prefer to die in peace. A king deserves that at least." My head decided that was too many words and my belly thought it might be a good idea to join in on the rebellion. I was torn between sitting up to find the chamber pot and letting my head explode.

"Nell brought you a potion," Isabella yelled.

"_Please_...stop screaming," I begged.

She laughed then, and I could have sworn she laughed right in my ear just to watch me suffer. She was a cruel, cruel woman. "I'm not screaming, Edward. In fact, my voice is barely above a whisper."

"You could not prove it by me," I whimpered.

"Here, before you embarrass yourself further, take the goblet and drink," she ordered.

"No," I refused, clamping my mouth shut.

"I sincerely hope that our children are not afflicted by the stubbornness their father exhibits," Isabella mused aloud.

"Goblets and I are not on the best of terms right now," I told her in a low voice. "They're a dangerous, subversive weapon."

She laughed again, clearly enjoying my pain. "Drink it and you'll feel better," she promised.

I rolled over to look at her and gulped as the nausea rolled through me. "Really?" I asked suspiciously.

Isabella looked amused but she nodded. "Really," she replied and held the goblet out for me. Then I caught a whiff of its foul stench and reconsidered the death option. I gagged at the smell, wondering if Nell was giving me something useless just to torture me.

"I cannot drink _that_," I said.

"You can and you will," Isabella replied firmly and held out the goblet once more.

I tightened my lips and shook my head. To hell with the head spinning and nausea, I had lived through that before. I was not quite sure I would survive the concoction that Nell had given Isabella.

Isabella sighed in exasperation. "Very well then," she said and put the goblet on the table by the bed. "I see I am forced to more drastic measure." With that she got up from the bed and opened the shutters covering the windows, allowing sunlight to flood the room.

I screamed and rolled over, burying my face in the pillow. It was at that moment that Isabella started singing – loudly and off key.

"Have mercy," I begged.

She sang louder. I heard more shutters being thrown open. Then the door opened and suddenly a massive weight was jumping on the bed. A wet tongue licked my cheek while a tail tried to beat me to death.

"I shall have you put to death," I threatened.

Laughing, Isabella got on the bed and continued singing. Sugar Bear was desperately trying to lick me into submission and then I heard the new puppy whimpering, wanting to join in on the fun. I had insisted on naming the new puppy and her name was "Lady." I was going to change it to Demon as soon as I recovered because her high pitched whining threatened to make my eyeballs shoot from my skull.

Then Isabella stopped singing and she leaned in to whisper, "Drink and your head will quit aching and your stomach will settle," she promised in a voice that held all the seduction of a siren.

I struggled to sit up and held my nose closed with one hand. She rolled her eyes at me and I ignored her. I took a gulp and immediately felt it trying to come back up, but Isabella's hand pressed the bottom of the goblet up, forcing me to finish the devilish brew. When I had finally drained it, I pushed the goblet away and gasped for breath.

"Gods, I didn't think it possible, but it tastes worse than it smells!"

"There is always a price to pay for overindulgence," Isabella said primly.

"Oh gods, 'tis too high," I muttered. I allowed my stomach to settle a bit and then I scowled at her. "What message does your brother bid you give me?"

She bit her lower lip and giggled. It was not quite so loud that time. "He says to tell you that, crown or not, you cannot hold your wine like a Swan but that he and Jasper shall endeavor to help you build up your stamina."

I wanted to laugh at that, but I feared it would pain me too much, so I grunted and settled down farther under the covers.

"Sleep for an hour, and when you wake, all will be better," Isabella said softly. I closed my eyes and felt her fingers running through my hair and she was humming softly, not out of tune at all.

_** ~Duty~**_

A few days later, fully recovered from my overindulgence, but feeling out of sorts and frustrated, I was trying to give my attention to a book on the history of trade routes. It was not exactly scintillating reading and my mind kept wandering.

"Edward!" I looked up and saw Isabella grinning at me. We were sitting in our chambers, enjoying some quiet time before we went to bed. I was surprised that she sounded so...animated. Then I saw that her hand was pressed to her belly, her eyes wide. "Feel!"

I moved quickly, because so far I had yet to feel the child move. But if Isabella could feel it with her hand, then perhaps I could too. I knelt before her and eagerly pressed my hand to her rounded belly and waited. I was beginning to lose hope when I felt...something. It was subtle and soft and if I had not been waiting for it, I might not have noticed. I could only stare at my hand in wonder.

Then I felt it again.

"Do you feel it?" Isabella asked quietly.

I looked up at her, stunned and amazed. "I do," I replied. "That is our child," I added in a voice of wonder.

She smiled, looking very pleased. "Yes, that is our child."

"Our son or daughter," I said softly and pressed my hand a little harder. I leaned my cheek against her belly and was rewarded with another slight movement from within. "This is your father," I said. "And I love you..."

I felt Isabella stiffen slightly and I looked up at her in confusion. "What is wrong?"

She smiled at me but it looked wrong somehow. "Nothing," she said and she brushed her fingers through my hair and then cradled my jaw. I was still kneeling, my face even with her belly.

"Tell me," I urged.

"Nothing," she insisted. "Get up, please," she quietly admonished and I knew she was trying to distract me.

Suddenly, all of my frustrations surged through me. This beautiful woman had me at her feet and yet she could not wait to distance herself from me. Did she not see how much I cared about her? Did she not sense that I wanted something from her, something beyond the child in her belly? I clamped my jaw shut, determined not to argue with her. Now that she _looked_ pregnant, I found myself unwilling to upset her, ever mindful of the life inside of her.

I stood by the fire and leaned on the mantle, feeling my jaw bulge and clench as I tried to contain my anger and frustration. Why could she just not say the words? Would it have killed her?

"Edward?" Her voice was soft and cool and composed – and that only infuriated me more.

I knew my feelings were not logical. I knew my anger was not her fault, and my frustration was of my own making. But I wanted to scream at her until she confessed her love for me. I needed to hear the words and I needed to hear them now.

"I'm going for a ride," I finally said. Rakis would be glad to have a night ride; it had been a long time since we had ridden the base of the hill at night.

"Edward, it is dark," Isabella said and put her hand on my arm.

I jerked it away, ignoring the shock on her face. "I'm not a child, Isabella. I'm capable of riding a horse at night." But her hand came back to rest on my arm and tugged me gently around to look at her.

"What's wrong?" she asked and something in her voice gave me pause. There was a look of expectation on her face, a wanting and desire that I knew was in my own. "What do you need, Edward?" Ancient wisdom rang in her voice, urging me to courage. I could almost hear her saying, _"Tell me what you need from me and I shall give it."_

My anger fled, leaving only sadness and a fatigue so deep I felt as if I could sleep forever. I was tired of fighting my feelings for her, feelings I had not even known were there until this very moment.

I knew what I needed. I knew what I wanted. But most of all, I knew what I needed to _give_. My knees were shaking so I gave into the weakness and knelt at her feet yet again. I put my arms around her and rested my cheek against the life we had created together. "I want...I want you to love me, Isabella," I said softly. "I want to hear the words. I need to hear those words. I need it more than I thought possible. Because..." I took a deep breath and looked up at her. She looked like a goddess with her shining hair and soft eyes. "Because I love you, Isabella. I love you, and I always will. I need you to love me too, because I don't think I can survive if you don't."

There was only silence for a long moment and then she gave a soft cry and fell gracefully to her knees so that our faces were level. She placed soft, tender, quick kisses all over my face, murmuring quietly. It took me a few seconds to recognize the words, the same words repeated over and over again. "I love you...I love you...I love you..."


	17. Chapter 16: Waiting and Wondering

I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephenie Meyer. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

_**Author's Note: I hope to post an outtake featuring Carlisle and Esme soon. It will be in this thread so no need to hunt it down if you'd like to read it. Also, this chapter is a little longer than normal, but I didn't want to break it up. We are getting close to the end now, which makes me sad. **_

**Chapter 16: Waiting and Wondering**

That night, Isabella and I made love with a sweetness that dimmed all of our other encounters. Once I had spoken the words, it felt as if a dam had given way and the words kept pouring out of my mouth. I had to say them over and over again, because every time I did she offered them in return. Finally, sated and satisfied, I held her close and whispered into her hair, "What took you so long to say the words again?"

She looked up at me, puzzled. "What do you mean..._again_?" She frowned. "I told you that I loved you before?"

I laughed then, realizing I had been torturing myself needlessly. If I had spoken up earlier, I could have put my fears to rest. "Yes," I murmured. "You did. As you were falling asleep one night."

She gave a little snort. "Well, I cannot be held accountable for my utterances whilst I am asleep."

"_Almost_ asleep," I clarified with a grin.

"Well," she whispered, cradling my face. "It was true then, and it's even truer now...I love you, Edward."

"And I love you," I said. "Still, how can you know it was true when you don't even know when you said it?" I looked at her suspiciously and I saw a sheepish look come over her face in the dim illumination of firelight.

She sighed heavily. "You will not let it go, will you?"

"Absolutely not," I agreed.

"I'd much prefer it if you did," Isabella insisted.

"I'm sure you would," I teased. "But I'm even more certain that I cannot. The male ego and all that, I'm quite sure you understand."

"You're impossible," she complained, but a smile tugged at her lips.

"And yet you love me," I could not help but point out.

"They do say that northern women are mad," she mused.

"I can attest to that," I said. "I've not forgotten my question, Isabella."

"Oh very well, since you're going to be such a pest..." She paused and then sort of buried her face in my chest. "Well, my royal, conceited fool, I have loved you since before I married you. So any night you might have heard me murmur those words, they would have been true."

I was struck speechless by joy...and gratitude.

_** ~Duty~**_

One afternoon I entered our chamber to see that Alice and others were helping Isabella wash her hair. A basin was up on a table and they were anointing Isabella's dark fall of hair with lavender scented water. I watched Isabella, so beautiful and graceful that it made my heart ache. This was my wife...my queen... She turned and I saw the sweet curve of her belly. She was the mother of my child. I felt a fierce tenderness overtake me. I quickly dismissed the women, wanting to be alone with her.

Isabella looked at me in confusion and smiled. "How am I supposed to finish washing this myself?"

I smiled and took up the ewer that had been used to pour water over her hair. Carefully, I let some water fall. "You usually wash your hair when you bathe," I murmured.

She laughed a little. "Yes, and I probably will bathe again, but I was outside and I grew hot, so I bathed in a basin and then my head felt itchy and then nothing would do but that I washed my hair." She sighed. "I should have probably just taken a bath to begin with," she admitted.

I brushed my hands over her hair, making sure that it was clean. Then I wrapped a towel around her head and led her to the chair and helped her sit on a small stool. I reached for her brush and began with long, soft strokes. I had always loved her hair. I loved the feel and scent of it, the weight of it brushing my body while we made love, the softness of it caressing me while we slept.

"I love you," I said and kissed her ear.

"I love you more," she whispered.

_**~Duty~**_

Isabella's belly grew along with her impatience. As her shape rounded, she became less graceful and more cumbersome. I was discovering that Isabella became ill-tempered when it grew more difficult for her to get about. The first morning she had to get my help out of bed, she had sulked for an hour. Three days later, she needed similar assistance to rise from the dinner table and she did not speak to me for the rest of the night. It might have had something to do with all of the women in court giving her a fond look of sympathy while the men laughed behind their hands. In truth, my bride was quite grumpy.

Then, about six weeks before the child was due, we got word that the Swans were a few days away. The following day, we got word that my mother and Carlisle would soon be back at court as well. Carlisle included a private missive to me. I read it with a great deal of satisfaction, because I already sensed what he was coming to tell me. All of my scheming had come to fruition. In truth, it was a bit disappointing to have it all come together so easily. It would be nice to have encountered a little more excitement in my scheming, something of the unexpected.

Jasper was finally beginning to exhibit a case of nerves as his marriage day to Alice was only a week away. Alice seemed serene and calm, but Isabella confessed that Alice was as given to fits of tears as Jasper was to bouts of frantic pacing. I would have reassured them both, but honestly, their behavior provided Isabella with some much needed amusement and I was selfish enough to be glad of it.

As it happened, the Swans and my mother arrived on the same day, just a few hours apart. Renee gasped when she saw her daughter's transformed shape. Charles bowed respectfully, told me that my northern barons sent their congratulations on the coming heir, he thanked me for approving the match between Jasper and Alice, and he noted that his daughter looked incredibly happy. The Swan family reunion was a happy, noisy affair.

A few hours later, my mother and Carlisle returned. Immediately after greeting my mother, Carlisle begged for a private audience. I told him there was no need to ask and we retired to my private study.

"Sire," he said, sinking to his knees, an act that surprised me.

"Carlisle," I admonished. "None of that, now."

"Sire, I must humbly beg your forgiveness," he said lowly.

I knew from his missive that he was most likely going to ask for my mother's hand. He did not need my forgiveness and my permission would be gladly given. "And for what must you ask my forgiveness, Carlisle? You have ever been a good and faithful servant. No monarch could ask for someone more loyal or capable to help him lead a nation."

Carlisle merely closed his eyes and shook his head, clearly miserable and wracked with guilt. "I fear I have betrayed your faith in me, Your Majesty."

"Speak freely, Carlisle," I told him. "We have trust enough between us for that at least." I sighed. "And get to your feet. It makes my head ache to see you on your knees."

He swallowed hard. "I have looked above my station," he said in soft voice. "And more than look, Sire. I have dared to claim."

I smiled encouragingly. "You want my permission to marry my mother?"

He closed his eyes again and groaned. "Worse, Sire, much, much worse." He opened his eyes and stared straight at me, his expression sorrowful. "I ask your forgiveness because...because I have _already_ married your mother."

I stared at him for a moment. Well, at least _that_ was something I had not foreseen. "Do you love her?"

"With all my heart and since I was a boy," he said fervently. "I have never loved another, and never will I."

"And she returns your feelings?"

"She has loved me since we were children together, but she was ever a faithful and true wife to your father, Sire, that I swear to you."

"I believe you," I assured him. "And that, I believe, is all we need to settle. Now get to your feet, my man, you are related to royalty now. We can't have you kneeling on those stone floors. You're much too old to take the abuse to your joints."

I pulled him to his feet and embraced him. "I entrust my mother's happiness to your keeping, and have faith that my trust is well placed."

_**~Duty~**_

Over the next week, the court was in a furor. The wedding of Jasper and Alice had been something of an event _before_ Carlisle married my mother. Now that their union was known, speculation and gossip ran rife. I swore that if my mother had not been past the age for it, the gossips would have been looking for signs that she was with child. Now, the marriage between a Swan and Cullen would only further unite our families. Everyone realized that it would strengthen both families' ties to the throne...and to me.

There were some mutterings and petty displays of jealousy, but Carlisle was an old hand at such things and Alice took after him. The Swans simply did not care enough to get offended, so those responsible for left wanting for further fodder for their gossip. I was most pleased at how both families handled themselves during the odd, but annoying tantrums thrown by some courtiers who should have known better.

And Isabella was simply sailing through the last weeks of her pregnancy, completely oblivious to it all. Rather, I should say she was waddling through the last weeks. When the marriage day dawned, the babe's birth was a month away and truly I sometimes wondered how her belly had not simply burst open like an overripe fruit. There were times I was tempted to thump it to see what sort of sound it would make, but Isabella had lost her sense of humor in the last few weeks.

_Nothing_ was funny – including me. She had stopped looking for me in the middle of the day so that we might make love. She even let me sleep in some mornings now. Things were a bit more difficult now. Her belly was truly in the way, and I found that the easiest way for her was for us to lie on our sides with me behind her. Then I could gently slip inside of her, cradling her belly and caressing her heavy breasts or rubbing my fingers over her plump, secret flesh as I made love to her. Contrarily, I missed the days when I had been driven to hide from her.

It was a very good thing that I knew she loved me, because if she had not continued to say the words, I might have thought she was plotting my demise. I made the mistake of entering our chambers whilst she was attempting to get dressed for the marriage ceremony. I almost turned right around when I heard her muttering as Rosalie tried to help her lace up her gown.

"By the gods," Isabella grumbled. "I am a cow...a big fat, round cow."

"'Twill be over soon," Rosalie soothed.

"Not soon enough," Isabella snapped and then she sighed.

I heard Renee and Rosalie laugh at Isabella's tone. Then Rose embraced Isabella. "Ah, sweetheart," she murmured. "I remember well feeling as you do. Not too much longer and then you will have your babe in your arms and you will forget the inconveniences of carrying him."

"I shall _never_ forget," Isabella insisted with a bit of petulance.

"All right," Renee said and embraced her daughter. "Now, let's finish getting you dressed."

I alerted the women to my presence and Renee and Rosalie dipped into curtsy's. Isabella frowned at me. "What?" I asked, pulling at the collar of my tunic.

"You're too handsome," she said. "I don't like it. Especially not when I'm such a cow."

I laughed and her scowl deepened. "Well, I still think you're the most beautiful woman in the world, so I suppose we shall have to find a way to endure."

"Pretty words from a pretty mouth," she said as my lips found hers.

"Careful," I admonished. "I might be helping you out of that gown if you keep that up."

She rolled her eyes at me. "As difficult as it was to get me _in_ this gown, believe me when I say that I'm staying in it."

_**~Duty~**_

Jasper and Alice were married in the same place that Isabella and I had taken our vows. The same holy man performed the ceremony. I was not surprised to see some small crowds lining the streets to watch the participants pass. If the courtiers were not sure about the elevation of the Swans and Cullens, the people were. They cheered all of them, and especially Isabella. She was riding in a litter, her belly too big to allow her to comfortably sit on a horse. She smiled serenely waving at the crowds. They loved their queen, especially as big and round as she was with the promise of their heir.

The ceremony was over fairly quickly, being much less elaborate when it was not a king getting married. Then we made our way back to the court for the celebratory feast. Jasper looked as if he had been struck by lightning, or perhaps he just could not believe his good fortune. His bride was coming to him a wealthy woman in her own right, as Carlisle's brother had settled a very generous marriage portion on her. Alice, for the most part, viewed Carlisle as her father. She had been close to Carlisle for years now, and I was glad to see that Carlisle and Jasper got along well.

There were mountains of food, fountains of wine, even some of that devastating wine from the south. Emmett made sure to sample a great deal of that. There were jugglers and acrobats and troubadours aplenty. Isabella, I noted, merely picked at her food, which was unusual enough to alarm me. I caught Old Nell's eyes and gave a slight nod toward Isabella. Old Nell's narrowed gaze studied Isabella and I knew she would be watching her carefully. Then I turned my attention back to the festivities.

Sometime in the second hour of the feast, Isabella reached out abruptly and grabbed my hand. "My love?" she said quietly, trying to be heard over the noise of the increasingly drunk revelers.

"Yes?" I asked, keeping one eye on a dwarf who was juggling three very sharp daggers. It was an amazing feat and I wondered if he would rather have a place at court rather than with the traveling show that was currently performing. He was _most_ amusing.

"I fear..." She took a deep breath and that got my full attention. "I fear I must excuse myself from the feast."

"Why? Are you tired?" Later, I would reflect that sometimes I was a bit dense.

"More...indisposed," Isabella muttered and she looked down. There was a strange puddle growing beneath her chair. I was about to summon a page to clean up the mess when something struck me. I darted a glance toward Isabella, my question clear in my eyes. She paused and then nodded, giving me a rueful smile.

I shot to my feet, my chair falling backward with a loud thump and the conversations went quiet. I helped Isabella struggle to her feet and then pondered my options. I was fairly sure I could carry her. Then I looked at her belly again and frowned. Perhaps. I looked at the stairs. There were an awful lot of them. Isabella laughed. "I can still walk, but I would like some assistance."

I nodded my relief at that compromise and then put my hand around her waist and urged her to lean into me. The court erupted into an excited buzz of conversation but I ignored them. I turned to summon Nell and the court midwife, Bess, but they were already walking behind me.

Escorting Isabella to our chambers was the longest walk I had ever taken in my life. I kept expecting her to double over in pain and begin screaming. Instead, she took slow, ponderous but steady steps toward our chambers. I breathed a sigh of relief when the door opened and I could escort her inside. I led her to the bed and began pulling at the laces of her gown. Nell and Bess entered behind us and immediately began issuing orders to the servants. I could see them looking at each other every now and then and giving a nod of understanding and agreement. At least it appeared they worked well together. That was a relief.

I found a night rail for Isabella and helped her into it. I quickly braided her hair to keep it out of her way, a skill I'd picked up since being married. I was about to help her into her bed when Old Nell appeared before us. "She doesn't need to be lying down yet," Nell said implacably.

"But..." All women took to their beds for their lying-in, thus the name. Perhaps this woman was not qualified after all. I tightened my arms around Isabella.

Nell's voice gentled. "Your Majesty, I was bringing babes into this world before you were a gleam in your father's eyes, and the Swans have trusted me for three generations to usher their young ones on the journey out of the womb." Bess nodded. "There will come a time when we'll put your Isabella in her bed, but that time is not now. We need to make sure the babe is well settled and head down and the best way to do that is to keep her walking."

"But-"

"But nothing," Bess said and took Isabella's hand. "We'll keep you informed of her progress, Sire." And Nell and Bess looked pointedly at the door.

I was being dismissed.

_**~Duty~**_

Later on, I was not quite sure how they managed it, but just a few moments later I found myself in the corridor, staring at the closed door. Then Charles Swan was there, taking my arm and leading me away even as Renee and Rosalie slipped into the chamber.

"What...?"

"Best to leave them to their business, Sire," Charles said. I was between Emmett and Charles and was soon in the Swans' chambers, being maneuvered to a chair and with a goblet of wine being pressed into my hand.

"The birthing chamber is no place for a man," Emmett said with a shudder.

"They'll not let you in, so you might as well do what you can to pass the time," Charles advised.

"I want to make sure Isabella is all right," I said, getting to my feet.

But Charles Swan and Emmett Swan were blocking the door. "Edward?" Charles' voice was low. "Believe me, 'tis best for now to remain here. Old Nell will take good care of her."

For the next hour, Charles and Emmett made jokes. At first, I thought them callous, and then I realized that they were just as terrified as I was, but were trying to be strong for me. It was a humbling realization. Carlisle soon joined us, though he seemed uncomfortable and ill-at-ease. We were still trying to work out our new relationship, and this was a momentous day in any case.

A guard knocked at the door and I was to it and opening it before Charles or Emmett could even rise. I had hoped for news and an invitation to see Isabella, instead there was a bit of parchment offered to me.

_All is proceeding as expected._

And that was it. Every hour, I received a similar message.

_Your lady wife is doing well._

_Things are proceeding._

_All is well and going according to expectations._

All of them said the same blasted thing – which was exactly nothing. By the time I had six such messages clutched in my hand I lost patience. Charles was snoring in a window seat, his rest aided heavily by wine. Emmett had gone to check on his own children. Carlisle had gone to give some orders to the guards to be prepared to send word out to the city when the babe arrived. I was, essentially, alone for the moment. I used the opportunity to sneak away.

I got to the chamber door and listened for a moment, hoping to hear something. I heard nothing beyond a low murmur of voices. I banged on the door and demanded entrance. "Let me in! I'm the King and I order you to open this blasted door or I'll have the guards rip it from its hinges!" 

At that very moment, the door cracked open just a bit and Old Nell's wizened face appeared in the small opening. She scowled at me, and in spite of myself, I took a small step back. "You might be the king, but today you're just an expectant father," she told me. Then she smiled. "And those I get to boss around. So I'll kindly ask you to remove yourself so that we might attend to your lady wife and not waste our time soothing your tantrum...Your Majesty." 

And the door closed again.

I had just raised my hand to pound on it again when it was abruptly opened. Old Nell gave me a sharp look. "Your wife would like to see you," she said and I could hear her reluctance. "But before you go in, I'm going to warn you. Do not say or do anything that will upset my lamb. She's tired, she is, and working very hard to bring your child into this world. Childbirth is not for the faint of heart, and to see the woman you love laboring is no easy task. I'll trust that you will reassure yourself, give her some sweet words to comfort her, and then let us go about our business?"

I could only nod, suddenly feeling apprehensive. What in the name of the gods awaited me in that chamber?

Gingerly, I bypassed Nell and walked in. The fire was built up very high, making the room warm but not uncomfortably so. I could see the need for the fire as two cauldrons bubbled, lending a merry note to the assembly. Isabella was leaning heavily against Rosalie and she was walking. _Walking_.

When she saw me, Isabella gave me a weak smile and motioned me forward. Her hair was drenched with sweat, as was Rosalie's, but I could see just how strongly she was supporting my Isabella. In that moment, I began to love Rosalie Swan just a bit. "Edward?" Isabella asked quietly. "I'm fine, as you can see. Everything is going well, quite well in fact."

If that was fine, I should hate to see what a difficult labor would look like. My skepticism must have shown in my expression because Isabella shook her head. "Trust me, Nell would not lie to you...or to me." Nell gave an emphatic nod. "Give me a kiss, love," Isabella instructed. I still had not said a word. I felt incapable of doing so. I pressed my lips to her damp, warm cheek and then softly to her lips.

"Should I stay?" I asked. Suddenly she gripped my hand, and Rosalie's as well and squeezed incredibly hard. I watched as the pain rose and crested, her face reflecting every moment of it.

Finally, Isabella took a deep breath and looked to Nell. "That one was different; I think I should like to lie down now."

Nell nodded. "That's the change I was looking for, sweetheart," she said in a voice that was incredibly tender. She nodded to Rose who began leading Isabella back to her bed. I helped Isabella lower herself and plumped her pillows. She took my hand again and kissed it.

"Please...we'll send you word as soon as the baby is here," Isabella said.

"Should I stay?" I asked again.

She shook her head. "I fear I am about to become very unladylike indeed, my love, and I do not want you to see me like that."

"But-"

"Please Edward, if you are here I shall want to be brave and I fear that is beyond my capabilities at the moment." She grimaced. "Please, wait with my father. He's been through this before."

I allowed myself to be led out of the room but before the door could close behind me I heard Isabella cry out sharply and it went through me like a knife. I looked up to see Charles Swan standing there.

"It takes a measure of doing, doesn't it? Standing out here while the woman you love struggles to bring your child into the world," he said softly.

"I cannot stand it," I replied.

Charles nodded. "But you can, and you will. If she can stand the bearing, you can stand the waiting. Come along, Edward, and have something to eat. You'll feel better. You'll need your strength to show off that fine son to your court in a few hours."

I followed him blindly, hardly able to concentrate on the fact that our child would soon be born. I could only pray for Isabella's safe delivery.

_** ~Duty~**_

Twelve hours after Isabella's water had broken, I blinked to see a messenger standing there, grinning at me. "The child is born, Your Majesty!" He looked fit to burst.

"And my wife?" I asked. "Is she well?"

He grinned even wider. "If the amount of cursing I heard just before I came here is any measure, then she is hale and hearty, Sire."

I laughed and hugged the astonished page. I jostled Charles and Emmett and Carlisle. "The babe! It's here!"

I ran down the corridor, not knowing or caring if they followed. My child was born and my wife was safe. That was all I needed to know. Bursting through the door, I saw Isabella holding an incredibly tiny bundle in her arms. One miniature arm waved through the air and I heard impressive screams. I had to laugh. The baby was healthy if the sound of those lungs was any indication.

Isabella smiled at me and raised the bundle. Dark hair was sleek over the little skull. "Your...daughter," Isabella said quietly.

I waited for a pang of disappointment that did not come. I was only interested in getting my hands on that tiny bit of humanity. I kissed Isabella's cheek. "Thank you, my love, thank you." I held out my hands. "Might I hold her?"

Nell was busy in a far corner, her arms full of blankets as well. I was sure that whatever accompanied a baby into the world was in there and I wanted nothing to do with it. Isabella handed our daughter to me. There was a rushing in my ears and all I could see was the beautiful little face scowling up at me. "She's...she's perfect," I said. "Absolutely the most perfect baby ever born."

"You are not disappointed?" Isabella asked, watching me closely.

I smiled at the child. "Who could be disappointed in this?" I asked her and kissed the small, velvety cheek.

Isabella gave me a grin and nodded at Nell, who came forward with her burden. Suddenly, I realized that the baby in my arms had stopped crying, but I still heard an infant. My eyes went to Nell, who gave me such a smug look of satisfaction that I had to laugh.

"What have you there, Old Nell?" I asked.

Nell walked to me and held up the bundle. "I have your son, Your Majesty. Your wife is safely delivered of twins." She gestured toward the baby in my arms. "Your daughter, of course, must needs come first and fair pushed her brother out of the way in her haste. I suspect you shall have your hands full with that one."


	18. Chapter 17: My Isabella

I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephenie Meyer. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

_**Author's Note: Again, this chapter is a little longer because I didn't want to split it up. Also, there is an outtake coming up of the birth from Isabella's POV. That was kindly recommended by a reader and I thought it was a great idea. Probably one more regular chapter and two outtakes to go. That's the plan anyway! But we all know how I am with plans...**_

**Chapter 17: My Isabella**

I sat down on the bed by Isabella, holding our daughter in my arms. Nell gently placed our son in Isabella's arms and together, we took in the miracles we had somehow created. The girl had her mother's dark hair and her eyes were an indeterminate blue-gray. Her brother's eyes were slightly paler in color and his hair was auburn. They both had a head full of hair. Because the room was warm, we unwrapped them to get a good look at both of them.

Our daughter was slightly smaller, but she was no less loud than her brother. Our son, in fact, seemed to be the more serene of the pair, studying us both with solemn eyes as if he realized he had a big job to do one day and was wondering just how he was going to get it done whilst in such a terrifyingly small body. They both lad long, slender limbs, rosy cheeks, and seemed to move a lot. I had never realized how active a newborn could be.

"Isabella," I finally whispered. "I hardly know how to thank you. I don't know what to say," I admitted. I stared at our children a while longer. "Did you...know? That there were two of them?"

With a little laugh and a shake of her head, Isabella answered me. "No, I had no idea until after I was settled in. Nell and Bess checked me, went over and talked in the corner and made me nervous, and then came back and told me what they suspected." Isabella reached out to touch the dark curls on our daughter's head. "It is still difficult to comprehend."

"Wait..." I gave her a mock scowl. "You knew when I was here to see you?"

"They suspected," she told me with a grin. "But none of us wished to say anything because we did not want you to get your hopes up."

"I hoped only for a healthy wife and child," I told her as I kissed the top of her head. "It is probably better I did not know what they suspected, else I would have lost my mind."

"There was that consideration also," Isabella said dryly.

"Minx," I accused.

I could hear some activity in the corridor and I smiled at my wife, the mother of our _children_. "I suppose we should let everyone else in," I said. Renee and my mother had been there when the twins were born, as had Rosalie. But the men in the family had no idea that we had a son and daughter. They knew only that Isabella was fine and the babe was born. Isabella nodded. I motioned to Nell and Bess to let them in. Renee and my mother, playing coy, stood in front of the bed so that the men could not see Isabella holding our son. They saw only me, cradling our daughter.

I stood up carefully. "Gentlemen," I said. "I would like you to meet our daughter." Charles gave me a sharp look, obviously intending to see if I was disappointed. I would have a few words with my bride about her little trick...later. I understood her reasoning, of course, but I would have to tease her about it. I grinned and Renee and my mother moved.

Charles gasped quite loudly. "Twins?" he asked and then he laughed loudly. "Well, leave it to Isabella to do the unexpected."

"Our son," I said.

Emmett looked from one babe to the other and grinned. "Oh my," he said, looking at me. "You have no idea how much your lives are going to change." He and Rosalie shared a knowledgeable look. "Which one came first?" he asked.

"Our daughter," I told him with a smirk. I was actually quite proud of her. Living in the shadow of an heir would not be easy; she would have to learn to stand up for herself and it appeared she was well equipped for the task.

Emmett gave me a wink. "At least my daughter had the good manners to allow her brother to be born first."

"With a mother like Isabella, I am surprised this little one didn't insist on having the womb to herself," I retorted.

"Still, you didn't get your boy first," Emmett pointed out smugly.

"Isabella and the babies are healthy," I told him. "I am content."

Emmett's expression grew more solemn. "Yes, that is always a blessing."

"So," Charles said. "Now that they are here, might we know their names?"

I glanced at Isabella. It was the custom of our people not to speak the name they had chosen for a child to anyone else before its birth. It may be written, but not actually spoken aloud. There was no need to tempt malevolent spirits by giving them the child's identity while it was still so vulnerable in the womb. So now, for the first time, we would speak the names we had chosen. It was a good thing that we had one of each, as we had not chosen two boys' or girls' names. She nodded, letting me know she stood by our choices.

Holding up the baby I cradled, I introduced her. "This is Sophie Esme Renee," I said. Both of our mothers got a little teary-eyed.

Isabella finally spoke, looking at our son while she told everyone his name. "And this is Henry Charles Edward Masen," she said. I could have sworn that Charles was going to burst through his tunic, his chest puffed up with so much pride.

Sophie began wailing, which seemed to set Henry off and soon we were all engulfed in a cacophony of discontent. "I think these two little piglets must be hungry," Nell said with a look at Charles and Emmett and Carlisle. They all began filing out, though Carlisle did take the opportunity to briefly grasp my shoulder.

"I am very happy for you...for both of you," he said.

I leaned in and whispered, "This is all because of you. If it had not been for you, I would never have met Isabella, never had Sophie or Henry. So thank_ you_, Carlisle."

I took Sophie to her mother and I watched with avid interest as Nell and Bess got Isabella situated. Since Sophie seemed to be the loudest, they decided that Isabella should try to feed her first. Sophie took to the breast with great enthusiasm, if the look of surprise on Isabella's face was any indication.

"This will take some getting used to," she murmured. The sight of Sophie's tiny hand resting on Isabella's breast made something deep inside of me clench. It was joy and relief and terror and an overwhelming sense of love all at once. Henry stirred in my arms and I looked to down to see him studying me, his scant brows drawn together in a frown. Suddenly, his tiny mouth opened and a yell that rivaled his sister's erupted. I laughed and looked at Isabella.

"And those are the lungs that will out yell any ambassador one day," I said with a grin.

She rolled her eyes at me, but her eyes were filled with love and pride. "Actually, I think that if Henry needs any yelling done, he'd best call for his big sister," she noted. Sophie pulled away with a comical pop of sound, making Isabella wince. "Yes, it will definitely take some getting used to."

Nell handed Sophie to me and neatly plucked Henry from my arms at the same moment. I envied her sense of assurance and ease. Nell helped Isabella settle Henry against her other breast and he was much more leisurely about the whole process. He gave the nipple a little lick and then looked puzzled. I had to laugh at the expression on his face. Even Isabella could not keep back a snort of amusement when Henry moved toward her breast again and tentatively latched on and gave a small suck. We watched as his whole body relaxed against her then, with his tiny frame sort of melting into her as he started to learn to feed. His bright head, the hair now dry and sticking up in every direction, was a striking contrast to her pale flesh.

He took his time, enjoying it and while he did so, Sophie's little body stiffened against me and I heard something...suspicious. Nell nodded with satisfaction and took Sophie from my arms. "That's my girl," she murmured and was soon wiping away the most disgusting black ooze I'd ever seen in my life. Once she had been put into clean cloths and dressed and wrapped in a blanket, Henry was done eating. Bess repeated the whole process with him.

I noticed that Isabella's eyes were beginning to droop. "She'll sleep for a while, as will the babes," Nell noted. "Perhaps you should tell your court and send the messengers to the city?"

I realized then that the court did not know we had our children, unless the Swans had given word, which I doubted. I grabbed Nell close and gave her a quick buss on the cheek. She cackled with delight and I was soon racing out of the room.

The courtiers were waiting, of course. They all fell silent as I entered the hall and I motioned to a page for a goblet of wine. I held it aloft and said, "My lady wife was safely delivered of a princess named Sophie Esme Renee earlier this day!" They all laughed and drank to her good health. Then I held up my hand and they quieted. "My queen also gave birth to a healthy son, whom we have named Henry Charles Edward." I grinned at my stunned court. "Let us drink...to Princess Sophie and Prince Henry!"

The roar of their toasts was deafening.

I motioned to the messenger waiting to go into the city. "Announce the birth of a healthy princess and prince. Make sure you tell them that their queen is doing well and the children are healthy." I grinned. "And make sure you announce the girl first, my wife seems to be very set on everyone knowing that Sophie arrived first."

The messenger grinned at me in return. "Will do, Your Majesty," he said. "And might I add that we all give you and the queen our most sincere congratulations? Twins, Sire, 'tis still hard to believe!"

I nodded. "I've seen them with my own eyes, and held them, and it is still a wonder."

_**~Duty~**_

Thirty minutes later, I was back in our chambers, watching Isabella sleep. The babies were settled into a cradle, the royal cradle in which I had slumbered as a baby. Fortunately, it was large enough for two of them. Nell had recommended leaving them together for the time being. "They'll sleep better the little lambs," she said. "They're accustomed to being with each other; they'll fuss if you separate them." That was good enough for me. Nell and Bess and Isabella had chosen a wet nurse just in case, now I was doubly glad that they had done so. I would see about hiring an additional nurse maid very soon, though I knew Isabella wanted to do as much for the babies on her own as possible. Still, I would not see her work herself into exhaustion doing so.

Though I was sure it was a scandal to do so, I slid into bed beside her. Though technically there were rooms for the king and rooms for the queen, we had never had separate quarters and I was not about to start now. My place was beside her, and hers was beside me. I closed my eyes and gently gathered my sleeping wife into my arms. My world was impossibly sweet, and I wanted to savor it.

_**~Duty~**_

The babes woke four times in the night. Isabella nursed them each time, with the nursemaid and Bess helping her. Bess taught her a way to feed them both at the same time, though she did recommend that the wet nurse take at least one of the feedings in the night as soon as Isabella's milk was in, whatever that meant. Her breasts were filled with something. She also brought in a brew that she and Nell had created for her to help with making enough milk for what seemed to be two very hungry babies. It had a list of herbs in it that Isabella seemed to recognize, blessed thistle, nettle leaf, and fennel seed. None of it seemed very appealing to me. But I didn't have to make any milk, thank the gods.

Even as young as they were, their personalities were starting to shine through. Sophie was impatient and demanding, having little tolerance for delays in her feedings. Henry was more patient, up to a point. When he had finally decided he had waited long enough, he would let out a yell that made even Sophie flinch. We decided that Henry would look like me and Sophie would look like...herself. She had Isabella's coloring, but I could see traces of me in her tiny face.

As she nursed, I leaned over and whispered to Isabella, "I suppose I should start building that tower now."

Isabella gave me a puzzled look. "What do you mean?"

I grinned at her. "The tower I am going to lock our daughter in, so that no man can get to her."

Isabella shook her head and kissed me, so I knew she was not too annoyed with me. "Build away, but I must tell you that a young man who fancies our daughter will find a way to get to her."

"Then he'll face the block," I promised, only half-joking.

She kissed me again, as she sometimes did when I was being foolish. "All right, my love, build your tower." Then she smirked at me. "But I shall find the key and set her free. Love must triumph after all."

I grunted my disapproval. Then Sophie grunted her disapproval of our conversation interrupting her feeding. "Her Highness says you must be quiet," Isabella admonished.

_**~Duty~**_

"You know what this means, don't you?" I asked Charles as we watched the women cluster around the babies. Jasper and Alice had emerged from their rooms long enough to meet their new niece and nephew, though if the looks they kept throwing each other were any indication, they would not stay long.

"And what is that, Sire?" Charles asked.

I gave him a pointed look. "I seem to remember a conversation we had about a suitable title for the grandfather of the heir to the throne."

Charles groaned and closed his eyes and I reveled in the rare opportunity to get the upper hand with this mad baron of the north. "That truly is not necessary, Your Majesty," he said through tight lips.

I laughed and clapped him on the back. "Oh, but I think it is," I insisted.

"By the gods," he muttered. "You do realize that if you do this thing, for the next several weeks Emmett will bow and scrape every time he sees me, and Jasper will somehow find amusement at my expense at every turn?"

"I do," I admitted. "And that is just more incentive."

Charles shook his head ruefully. "I should have known Isabella would produce a son just to vex me."

"Be at ease, my lord," I assured him. "You will grow accustomed to the bowing and scraping."

He grunted and scowled, but I noticed that every time he saw his new grandchildren, his expression softened and he looked quite proud indeed.

_**~Duty~**_

One month after the twins' birth, Isabella and I stood on the ramparts and watched the newly made banners of the Earl of Whiteswood fade into the distance. I turned to Isabella and watched the wind whip at Isabella's hair. "Are you sad to see them go?" I asked.

"More like relieved," she confessed with a little laugh. "They'll be back when we celebrate the children's first Name Day. I fear it shall take me that long to recover from having them all here at the same time."

I laughed because I knew how she felt. Only Jasper was here at court, and we hardly saw him. He was advancing quickly and worked very hard. And he was a newly married man, which meant any free time he did have was certainly to be wasted on his sister. I envied him the ability to make love to his wife at the moment. Nell had been most firm in her assertion that Isabella and I must wait the full two months. She had traveled back with the Swans, saying that at her age, her bones preferred to be close to their final resting place.

Bess and Nell had become great friends and I had every confidence that Bess would step in for Nell should Isabella need advice. When the last of the dust kicked up by the passage of the Swans faded away, we turned and went back inside. The twins had been fed just an hour earlier and would probably sleep for another few hours. Their nursemaids were keeping a vigilant eye on them in the small chamber adjoining ours.

I was determined that by the time the second month of my deprivation was over, they would be firmly established in the royal nursery. I could only hope that Isabella would agree with me, but I was prepared to argue my case.

Even though I knew I was torturing myself, I pulled Isabella into my arms. "I've missed you," I said.

"I've been right here," she whispered.

I frowned. "Yes, but so much has been going on about us that I've felt...distant from you."

She cradled my face in her hands. "I have felt the same way." Then she smiled. "Before she left, Nell gave me the first dose of the potion, so that in a month's time, it will be working and we may play without concern."

I felt myself harden and I could not help but pull her against me and rub my staff on her belly. "You delight in teasing me," I accused.

Her hands slipped down my chest and belly to cup my cock and she gave a little squeeze. I pulled her hand away. "The nursemaids are not too far away," I reminded her.

Isabella pouted and rested her head on my chest. "Then we shall have to see the nursemaids and our children settled into the nursery...soon."

My heart sang...and my staff throbbed.

_**~Duty~**_

The twins were two months old. Exactly two months old. I wondered if Isabella had taken note of the significance of the date. After our evening meal, she nursed them in the nursery and gave them over to the care of the nursemaids, whom she instructed not to wake her this night. Isabella told them that she would come to the nursery to feed them if she decided to do so.

I thought about that, which certainly did not fit with patterns of previous nights. Usually, she advised them that she was to be awakened at least once in the night to give them the breast. Perhaps she _did_ recognize the significance of the day. We walked back to our chambers, hand-in-hand.

She guided me to a seat by the fire and poured a goblet of the infamous southern wine. I sipped at it appreciatively, careful not to overindulge. I pulled her into my lap and she fell there with a giggle. Her eyes locked with mine, she took the goblet from my hands and put it on the table next to us. Then she held my face in her hands and kissed me, tenderly at first and then with rising passion.

"Isabella..." I managed to croak. "Are we...?"

"Oh yes, my love," she breathed. I closed my eyes with gratitude.

I surged to my feet, holding her against me as I did so, and I carried her to the bed and placed her on her feet beside it. She started to undo her gown, but I gently pushed her hands aside. "Allow me," I whispered.

Slowly, I undid each lace, placing a kiss on soft, silken flesh as it was revealed. She shrugged the gown off her shoulders and it fell into a velvet puddle at her feet. I traced the edge of her chemise, so delicately bordered with feminine flowers that she had embroidered. "So soft," I murmured. "So beautiful."

I lowered the chemise from one shoulder and trailed my fingers over her breast. It was much larger now, swollen and abundant from the milk that sustained our children. I traced the light blue veins that adorned it and then cupped her breast. "I've missed these," I teased.

"You've seen them often enough," she retorted, arching up against me.

"Yes, but always with a babe attached," I reminded her.

She laughed, but the laughter turned to a groan when my lips closed around her nipple. I gently licked and teased until she was pulling on my hair and urging me closer. I stepped back and she uttered a word I was sure she had learned from a stable boy. I removed her chemise and then knelt before her to remove her shoes and untie her stockings. Slowly, I removed each tube of silk. I licked at her thighs and she shuddered.

Rising to my feet, I picked her up and put her on the bed. "Just as I've dreamed," I said, looking at her in all her glory, spread out for me on our bed, her hair a wild, dark cloud of silk around her. I knelt on the bed and moved toward her. She tried to pull me on top of her, but I resisted. "Oh no, my love, I want to savor this. I have been too long denied."

"I'm told that 'tis the price of children," she teased.

"There are nights I deemed it too high," I told her.

"Your starvation is over, love," she promised.

I groaned and lowered my body to hers, unable to deny myself the sensation of feeling her body next to mine any longer. She pulled away from our kiss to protest, "You're still dressed."

I stood and took care of that quickly and then lowered my body to hers again, both of us groaning at the contact. My hands were shaking as I caressed her, and hers were no less steady as they moved over me. When she reached my cock and wrapped her sweet fingers around it, I wanted to shout with joy. Instead, I thrust into her steady grip. "Gods yes," I hissed.

I kissed her breasts again, careful not to suck at them. Old Nell had warned me that her breasts would be extra sensitive for a while. Isabella seemed to like what I was doing, so I kept at it. Then she whispered in my ear, "More."

Yes, more.

My fingers traced down her belly and to the soft curls that always enchanted me. I slipped my fingers between her thighs to find her hot and wet with welcome. It was almost enough to make me explode right there. When I thrust a finger inside of her, tentative and unsure, her hips rocked against my hand and I knew she was telling me that all was well.

"Edward," she said in my ear. "I know you want to go slowly, but by the gods, I don't think I can bear it. Please...take me now, love. Later we shall savor, but for now, I want to be a glutton..."

I needed no further urging, and I moved between her thighs, my cock pressing against her. I leaned on my elbows, holding her face in my hands and pushed in. Gods, it was even better than I remembered and I closed my eyes. "Isabella..." I moaned. "Is this okay? Does it feel all right?" Nell had told me she might be tender. I must stop thinking about Nell, I thought wildly.

"Oh yes," she encouraged and her heels pushed on my backside.

I obeyed her unspoken command and thrust hard and retreated. Soon we had a thoroughly satisfying rhythm going. To my shock, because I knew my own control was hanging by a thread, Isabella exploded first, gripping at me with soft heat. She threw her head back and cried out. The sound of it, the sight of her, and the feel of her clamped around me was enough to send me spiraling over as well. I shuddered and collapsed, careful to keep the brunt of my weight from her. It was then that I realized that warm fluid was bathing both our chests, and I looked at Isabella in question.

"Uh..." Her face turned bright red. "Nell told me that my milk might let down when we...uh...when...I..."

"Oh," I said, at a loss. I reached for my tunic and wiped it away. "Interesting." She buried her head in my chest and I kissed the top of her head. I squeezed her tightly.

"I think it is safe to say that I am recovered," she whispered at last.

And then we both laughed.

_**~Duty~**_

Later that night, I held her in my arms, moving my hand up and down her arm and appreciating the sated drowsiness that comes after thoroughly satisfying sex. "You have been taking your potion every day, right?"

"Of course," she answered sleepily.

I lifted her chin. "I'm serious, Isabella. Don't forget."

"Think you that I'm ready to do that again any time soon?" she teased.

"It was terrifying," I told her and kissed the tip of her nose. "I do not think I can go through that again."

"It was difficult for _you_?" she asked with amusement. "I'm so sorry it was such a trial, my love."

"You know what I mean," I said. "Besides, we have a son and a daughter. I am content."

"So am I," she replied. "For now."

I groaned. "Isabella..."

"I'm not saying we should have another one any time soon, but in three or four years, it might be nice to do this again. Hopefully one at a time, but I shall take whatever the gods send us."

I sighed, knowing that now was not the time to wage that war. I kissed her again. "You, my love, are a minx. Think you that I have forgotten your trickery when you told me I had a daughter?" I gave her a mock scowl. "I can see I am going to have to keep a close eye on you, my love."

"I confess, I am not quite the lady I should be."

Because it had never seemed the right time to do so before, I had not brought it up. But now, brought together once again, it seemed appropriate. "Did you honestly think I would be disappointed in a girl?" I could not help a pang of hurt at the thought.

She sighed and traced her fingertips over my face. "Not truly," she said. "But there was that tiny grain of doubt that remained. _I_ wanted so badly to give you what _you_ wanted, what you married me for, that I could not help but worry that if I had given you only a daughter, you would have felt...let down."

"Isabella, I had a healthy child and a wife who had come through her delivery safe and sound. There was nothing to disappoint," I told her. "But still...I think you should pay a price for your impudence." I wriggled my eyebrows at her and she giggled.

"I should, should I?" she challenged.

"Most definitely," I said. "And I think the sentence shall be..." I pondered that for a moment. "I think you are sentenced to love me...for the rest of your life."

"A difficult task indeed," she whispered. "But fair is fair..."

My lips found hers. I pulled back. "Thank you, Isabella, for bringing so many wonderful things into my life, but most of all, I'm grateful for _you, my_ Isabella."


	19. Chapter 18: My Love

I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephenie Meyer. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

_**Author's Note: There are still two outtakes to go, but this is the last regular chapter. Thank you, thank you, thank you for all of your support! It meant the world to me. Also, in response to a review, just so everyone knows I did, in fact, know what I was talking about...**_ _**I'm well aware of breastfeeding being used for birth control. I taught childbirth classes and breastfeeding classes for years. However, since a wetnurse would be taking at least some of the night feedings AND given the fact that once babies are getting ANY solid foods, the contraceptive effects of breastfeeding would be greatly diminished. You are fertile before you have your first period, so you cannot rely on that to know when fertility has been restored. Breastfeeding should never be relied upon for contraception. I have two kids that are sixteen months apart. I should know...LOL!**_

**Chapter 18: My Love**

"Father," I heard a voice call out. "Sophie is being mean to me."

I struggled to repress my smile as I turned to my son. "What is wrong, Henry?"

Henry scowled, which he did most impressively for a child. "She says that she's older and that means I have to listen to her." He studied his small boots for a moment and then looked up at me suspiciously. "That isn't right, isn't it? I don't have to listen to her. She's just a girl," he added with seven year old disdain.

I had to keep from laughing at his skeptical expression. I sat down on a bench and pulled him into my lap. He only allowed it because we had no audience. "Well, she is older," I conceded and he started to protest. "But that does not mean she can order you about. Only adults can tell you what to do, and even then, your mother and I have the final authority." Isabella and I were involved in every part of our children's care and upbringing. We decided their routines and how they were to be disciplined. Nurses and tutors provided much of their daily care and instruction, but we were their parents and there was no blurring of responsibilities.

He frowned thoughtfully for a moment, his small fingers plucking at a jewel on my chest. "How come _she_ gets to be oldest?" he asked.

"Well, that was decided by the gods, not Sophie," I told him. "Even _she_ cannot order them about." Though privately, I had my doubts.

"I should have been born first," he said petulantly. He was a happy child, and only his sister had the ability to prick his temper. Of the two, he was by far the more patient.

"Well, I think that it all worked out perfectly, just the way things are," I said, running my hand over his riot of red curls. I heard footsteps and was not surprised to see Sophie running toward us, her dark hair flying behind her. She was a bundle of energy and affection, as well as a formidable temper.

"Oh, Henry," she said. "I was only teasing you." She sat down beside us and took his hand. They communicated silently in that way they had for a moment and then he slid off my lap and the two of them went running off, hand-in-hand. It was often thus. A squabble, some tears, a bit of pouting and then all was right again between them. Until the next time. I laughed and shook my head.

I looked up to see Isabella walking down the path toward me, holding the hand of our Richard. Richard was three years old now. He was like his Uncle Jasper in both looks and temperament, usually quiet, taking it all in, seeming to find all of us somewhat amusing. "Papa!" he cried and threw himself at me.

Isabella sat down heavily. I gave her an anxious look. We had agreed to have one more child, but I worried every time. I was quite content with two sons and a daughter, but Isabella said she wanted one more and she usually got her way. "Your back pains you?" I said, when she reached around and began rubbing at her lower back.

"My back, my feet, my front..." Isabella replied ruefully.

"Not too much longer," I soothed her.

"I miss Nell," she said after a moment. Nell had died in her sleep when Richard was just a few months old. We were both nervous at facing a birth without her attending Isabella. I knew Bess was qualified, but there was that nagging sense of worry. I tried to set it aside.

"Emmett and Rosalie will arrive tomorrow if the weather holds," she said. Rosalie was coming for the birth. Renee would not be here, having said that Charlie had caught a cold and must needs be tied to his bed in order to recover. I got the feeling that she was finding some glee in ordering Charles about. The Countess of Whiteswood was a force to be reckoned with, even for the _Earl _of Whiteswood.

I looked forward to having Emmett here again. He and Carlisle would keep me calm during the upcoming birth, as they had for the previous two. He and Rosalie had four children now – two sons and two daughters. Royce and Anna were fast friends with Henry and Sophie, and the four of them commiserated with each other on the miseries of having younger siblings. Jasper and Alice had only two children so far, two sons. Jacob was still unmarried, though I was not willing to bet that he didn't have a bastard or two. He was still quite prone to baring his backside indiscriminately.

Isabella sat back and rested her hands on her belly. In the distance we could hear the laughter of the children. It sounded like Henry and Sophie had been joined by their cousins, as Jasper and Alice lived here in the castle. Their sons, Edward and William, were three and five and were often found in the gardens with our children, or in our quarters. Indeed, the castle was alive with the sounds and laughter of children now, and I was glad of it. But most of all, I was glad for Isabella.

"I love you," I said and I kissed her hand. Richard got bored with our company and ran off to join his siblings and cousins.

She kissed him in return and then cradled his face in her hands. "You're worried about me, aren't you, love?"

I nodded, unable to deny it. I put my hands on her belly. "I love our children, and I'm grateful for them. But I worry every time you are brought to the child bed. I cannot help it." I smiled and brushed my thumb over her lip. "But I shall tolerate it. As your father told me, if you can endure the bearing, I can endure the waiting."

She laughed and pulled me in for a passionate kiss that left me panting. She urged me to my feet and then I helped her to hers. "I think we can ask your mother to watch over them and then perhaps you and I could escape to our chambers and..." She gave me a wicked smile and I felt my body respond.

"As you command, my love..."

_**~Duty~**_

The tour guide's voice droned on. Sarah really thought that they should have gotten someone a little more animated for the job. Still, it was quite interesting to see such old things up close. "...but because the royal family is currently in residence, we shall not be able to enter the library, which contains some of my favorite portraits of the..."

Sarah scowled. She hated being told she couldn't do something. It was one of the reasons she had gone on this trip in the first place. Her mother had tried to talk her out of it. Well that, and the fact that one of her older brothers had dared her. They should have known better, she thought with satisfaction. After all, they should know by now that Sarah Maureen McKinney never backed down from a dare or failed to pay off a bet. There tended to be a lot of both in the McKinney family.

With that in mind, Sarah began falling back in the tour group. If the group wasn't allowed into the library, then perhaps it would be easier for one person to get into the room. Someone like a non-threatening female type with bright red hair and – horrors! – freckles. There was an advantage to looking like a child of the fey, as her grandmother called her.

Sarah moved along the corridors, taking time every now and then to appreciate the beauty of one item or another. She peeked in a few doors, knowing she was being nosey but unable to help herself. Her father had always told her that her curiosity would be the death of her.

Finally, the fifth door she opened proved to be exactly what she was looking for and Sarah stepped inside with only a twinge of guilt. It didn't take long for the guilt to be overwhelmed by a sense of awe. It wasn't just the portraits, because they were amazing. But the books... Oh, all of the wonderful books. Lovingly, she let her fingers drift over a few antique spines and for the first time envied the people who lived here. They could call these books their own, she thought. They could sit in front of that fireplace and actually read them. She sighed at the thought.

She came to a stop in front of a portrait, one of the kings she supposed. He was a rather good-looking devil, a hint of arrogance in his mouth but it was quite difficult to think him too awful when he was surrounded by a brood of children. She giggled at the thought of those children pulling at his hose and his tunic, trying to climb up those long legs to tug at his beard.

"He was known as Edward the Wise," a voice said. Sarah whirled around.

"Shit. Busted," she said. "Uh...sorry...I just..."

He shrugged. Sarah thought she might have enjoyed the tour more if this guy had done the honors. He was tall and lean, dressed in a suit so obviously he worked here. He had black hair and the greenest eyes she had ever seen. She could tell their color from six feet away. He looked to be in his mid-thirties. He also looked to be completely gorgeous and positively lickable.

The man approached her and pointed at the portrait. "He ushered his people into a rare time of prosperity and peace."

"He was too busy with all those kids to go to war, I imagine. I guess he was a lover, not a fighter," Sarah quipped. "Are they all his?"

The man laughed and nodded. "Yes, he had six of them, as you can see."

Sarah gave a long, low whistle. "Of course, that's not so bad. I'm one of five myself." She looked up at the man. "Four older brothers," she explained with a grimace. She held out her hand. "I'm Sarah, by the way. And uh...thanks for not yelling at me for being where I'm not supposed to be. I have this perverse aversion for rules, or at least that's what my father tells me."

The man's sculpted mouth pulled up into a grin and Sarah was struck by a longing to see if those lips were as soft as they looked. "I'm Alexander," he said in return. Their hands met and she wanted to pull him close and press her body against his. She wondered what he'd do if she actually did that. You're being impulsive again, she chided herself. Impulsive and reckless... How many times had she heard that growing up?

"So...you seem to know a lot about these people, why don't you enlighten me?" Sarah requested. "You're a lot more interesting than the other tour guide."

Alexander laughed. "All right then," he replied. His voice was slightly accented and completely lovely, Sarah thought. He pointed back to the portrait of Edward the Wise. "Well, Edward proved he was very wise indeed and started a new tradition among royals – well his own family at least. He married for love, you see, which just wasn't done. His son did the same and his son after him...and so on. Even today, the family is known for making matches based on love first. It was considered quite the scandal, though today it isn't quite such an issue."

Sarah nodded. "Yes, not at all the thing back then."

He moved down a bit. There was a portrait of a lovely young woman, the same woman who had had her hand on Edward the Wise's arm in the previous family portrait. She looked slightly younger in this painting. "This is his queen, Isabella. She was best known for ordering a gathering of the holy leaders in order to discuss...birth control."

Sarah darted a glance up at Alexander. "You're shitting me."

He laughed and shook his head. "I am not, I assure you, shitting you. It seems that even in the middle ages there were certain potions a woman could take to discourage conception and since so many women died in childbirth, she felt it was only reasonable that they be able to space out their children."

"A most radical idea for its time," Sarah observed. She studied the face of the queen. "She doesn't look like a troublemaker."

"No, but then again, I think looks can be deceiving," Alexander said.

"True," Sarah allowed. "But she had six kids, right? She didn't practice what she preached?"

Alexander shrugged. "That, I cannot tell you. I _can_ tell you that the good queen had twins first – Henry, who became known as Henry the Bold, and Sophie. She was a rare kind of woman, too. Stories about her are legion. Then they had Richard and then John." He pointed back at the family portrait. "When young John was ten years old, the queen gave birth to twins again, this time both were girls – Eleanor and Elizabeth."

"Ouch, two sets of twins?" Sarah grimaced. "Not for me, thanks."

"I suppose twins would be rather harder on the mother than the father," Alexander conceded.

"So Edward and his Isabella, they must have had the hots for each other, huh?" Sarah said, looking at the couple.

"Well, it was a love match, and they did seem to have a lot of children," Alexander said. "So yes, I suppose they did have the 'hots' for each other, as you say." He moved and pointed to another portrait. "But they were outdone by her brother, Jacob, who became something of a celebrity on the tourney circuit. He had nine children, and six of them were actually legitimate."

"So he was a bit of a man whore," Sarah teased.

"Something like that," Alexander replied.

They were silent for a moment, each absorbed in their own thoughts. "So, Alex, what do you do?"

He looked startled for a moment. "I guess you could say I'm in the family business."

"Cool," Sarah said. "And the family business is hanging around old castles and impressing girls with your historical knowledge?"

"Something like that," he replied, his lips quirking. "Actually, I only just arrived. I was summoned by my mother."

"Oh that's never good," Sarah commiserated. "What did you do this time?"

"It's more what I haven't done," Alexander replied. "You see, I haven't gotten married, settled down and produced some children."

"Ugh..._that_ talk," Sarah said. "I hate that talk. I get it every holiday. You'd think a woman could approach her twenty-seventh birthday with a little dignity, but no..." Sarah rolled her eyes, remembering her mother at Christmas.

He leaned in and said softly, "But I refuse to marry until I meet that perfect someone. I won't settle, and my father understands and approves. So until that time..."

"Exactly," Sarah said with some heat. "Why settle for second best? I'd rather wait forever than have anything less than that single-minded passion that makes everything else fade into nothing." Then she stopped, embarrassed at her words and the fervor behind them.

"Yes, I see that you understand," he said simply.

She and Alexander exchanged a look of shared suffering. Alexander offered her his arm. "Perhaps you'd like to meet my mother?" he asked. "She might give me a stay of execution if she sees a beautiful woman on my arm."

Sarah idly wondered if he had a vision problem. Of course, she'd be his seeing-eye woman any day. They went back out into the corridor and down a stair case and into another corridor. Sarah noticed some startled looks from servants and one bobbed a curtsy, but Alexander seemed too intent on taking her to meet his mother and was pulling her along.

Finally, they came to another door and he opened it. An older woman, beautiful and elegant, was sitting at an ornate desk writing what looked to be a letter. "Why Alexander, how pleasant of you to barge in," she murmured and then her startled eyes went to Sarah. She got up and walked around the desk, holding out her hand to Sarah.

There was something vaguely familiar about the woman. Then Sarah had a sinking realization. She had seen that face before. She had seen that face in the photograph of the current royal family that greeted visitors to the castle. She gulped and started to panic when Alexander's hand on her arm steadied her. Okay, so it was Twilight Zone time. If that was the queen and she was Alexander's mother then...

Holy shit.

The queen smiled at her again. She looked at her son. And looked at Sarah. And her smile grew wider.


	20. Outtake, Two for the Price of One

I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephenie Meyer. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

_**Author's Note: Okay, I'm a liar. Again. There are still two more outtakes after this one. One of them will feature Alexander and Sarah. Yeah, I kind of like them and wanted to give them a bit more. Also, I had hoped to convey the modern time setting of the last part of the previous chapter with Sarah's language and the fact that a guided tour of the castle was going on – such things didn't happen in the far past. I must not have done as good a job of conveying the time sense as I hoped, so I'll just state it here: they are about five hundred years in the future, in other words, our time. Alexander's green eyes have come from his great, great, great...well, you get the idea, grandfather. Anyway, if I confused you, I apologize. And here is the birth from Isabella's POV. I hope you enjoy it.**_

**Two for the Price of One**

Once Edward left the room, Old Nell and Bess bade me lie on the bed so they could "check on things." I was not sure that I liked the sound of that. "What are you checking for exactly?" I asked nervously.

"Well, lamb, since your water has broken, I want to make sure that the babe doesn't have an arm trying to come out first, or that the cord isn't coming before the babe's head," Nell answered breezily as she washed her hands twice. I also had a good idea of exactly how she meant to do so, and I was not particularly happy about it.

I wanted to cover my face in mortification as I felt Nell's small hand slip inside of me. By the gods, was that really necessary? Nell's other hand was pressing down on my belly and I wondered for a moment if she would press so hard that her hands would meet. I finally gave in and covered my face with the sheet, hoping that I could pretend that none of this was actually happening.

Nell removed her hand and washed it again. Then she motioned to Bess and the two of them retired to a corner where they engaged in an animated discussion. At first, I was too busy being embarrassed to pay much attention. Then I grew curious. Curiosity gave way to trepidation. By the time trepidation had escalated into full-fledged fear, the two women approached the bed again. Nell beamed at me while Bess looked concerned.

I did not know what to make of that. "What's wrong?" I asked. "Is it the baby? Is he all right?"

Nell sat down and patted my hand. "Your baby is just fine, lamb," she said. She glanced up at Bess. "But the thing is...I'm not sure he's alone in there."

I could only gape at her for a moment. "What do you mean, not alone in there?"

Nell's eyes went to Rosalie, who gasped and put her hand to her mouth. Her eyes went immediately to my mountain of a belly. Then she smiled. The smile turned to laughter. I could hardly contain my impatience. "Are you saying...twins?" I asked in horror.

"That is what we suspect," Bess replied.

"All right then, love," Nell said. "Let us get you on your feet."

I did not want to get on my feet. I wanted to lie here. I wanted to sleep. I wanted to do this another day. I was not prepared. Instead of whining, however, I allowed myself to be helped to my feet and Rosalie was there to put her arm around my shoulders and we walked.

We walked and we walked and we walked and finally, I felt a little twinge. I called out excitedly. "I felt something!"

Nell nodded and Bess nodded and my mother and the queen and Rosalie all looked pleased so I supposed that little pang was a good thing. I smiled at all of them. "Well...that wasn't so bad," I said with relief. The looks on their faces should have warned me, but I continued on in my blissful ignorance.

For hours it seemed I walked. Rosalie, my mother, and even the queen took turns escorting me around the chambers. My feet began to ache, and still I had only a cramping sensation in my middle. Honestly, I was not sure what women complained about. It was tedious and exhausting, but hardly the agony that some women described. When I expressed that opinion to Rosalie, she merely shook her head.

I was hot. I was tired. I was sweaty. And I was still very, very pregnant. Then there was a pounding on the door and I heard Edward yelling. I wanted to laugh but I was too tired. Nell went to the door, muttered something to him and closed the door in his face. I was torn between amusement and shock. But I realized that I wanted to see him. I needed to see him.

"Let him in," I said softly, but I put everything I had learned from Esme about being a queen into those three words. I would have my way.

Nell grumbled. "The birthing chamber is no place for a man...much less a father. He'll faint and then we'll have two patients on our hands," she predicted darkly, but she moved to the door nonetheless.

Edward entered, looking frantic and frazzled. I smiled at him. "Edward? I'm fine, as you can see. Everything is going well, quite well in fact."

I spent a few moments soothing his temper and his worry, much like one would a fretful child. Though I confessed to myself at least that it did warm my heart to see his fear for me, his caring. Then I had another pain which felt quite different and all of my soothing was for naught. He was right back to frantic and frazzled. After a few hectic moments, Nell ushered him out again. I was relieved because the pain was starting to get my notice and I had a notion that I would soon be expressing my discomfort...loudly.

Where before it had been a mild, cramping sensation much like my monthly time, this was sharper, more defined. I could actually feel the ebb and flow of it, the inevitability of the cycle. Nell checked me again. "And that did the job," she said with satisfaction.

"What? What job?" I asked in a panic.

She patted my knee. "Well, before that, they were just floating around up there, jostling for first position I'd guess." Nell looked at Bess and cackled. "If they both be boys, they know there's a crown at stake, I'd guess." She seemed amused at the idea of my babies in there battling for the crown by way of my womb.

And that was when it hit me. If I had twin boys, mere minutes would separate the heir and his younger brother. Would the younger son be bitter? Would that cause fighting and heartache in the family? Suddenly, I prayed for two daughters, or a son and a daughter. Anything to avoid the bitterness that might come from having two sons born so closely together. I had hears stories of princes separated by _years_ who struggled for their father's throne. How much more bitter might the fighting be if they were born on the same day, and the crown decided by mere moments?

Then I no longer had any time or attention to think about anything except my body and its demands. All I was capable of was enduring the ever strengthening pains. Like the waves of a storm-tossed sea, they came at me, flowed over, and just before I drowned, they would ease away, leaving me panting and desperate on the opposite shore. I was starting to wonder why anyone had children at all. Or rather, why they had more than one.

An eternity later, another change came, and I felt my body bearing down without my will or permission. "Nell..." I gritted out her name and she came hobbling to my side. She opened my legs again – I would surely blush like fire over that continued immodesty when this was all over – and tore me in two. Actually, she didn't tear anything; she just...rummaged around a bit. And it hurt. Quite a lot. I gritted my teeth against the urge to slap her. Repeatedly.

"And that's it, lamb," she soothed. "One of them ahs finally won the battle and gotten into position and is ready to come into the world. When the next pain comes, I want you to push with all your might!"

Everyone in the room seemed to gather around and look between my legs. I huffed and puffed and pushed and groaned and generally did all those things a lady is told never to do – except in the childbed apparently. Just when I thought my body could not take the pressure any longer, I felt a sudden give, and the fire between my legs eased and something wet slipped from me.

Immediately, I heard a baby's cry and Nell held up a squalling bundle. "It's a girl, sweetheart, and healthy as can be!"

I smiled weakly. I hoped that Edward would not be too disappointed. I had hoped to give him a son and there was no possibility I would _ever _do this again. Ever. In fact, I -

My body reminded me that I was not done. While my daughter continued to wail, their thought of twins was confirmed. The second birth was easier...faster. I did not want to think why, all I knew was that my body gave way and the second child slipped into the world with little fuss. Then the next thing I knew, another cry joined the first.

"A son!" the queen cried and all of the women began murmuring at once. Nell patted my leg.

"Almost done, lamb," she promised.

"Almost?" I asked in disbelief. "There are more?"

All of the women laughed and I swore as soon as I was feeling better I was going to slap them all. None of this was amusing. "No, sweetheart, the afterbirths must come." She patted my leg again. "No worries, sweetling, they're much smaller and no bones, you know."

Again, everyone seemed to find that amusing. I decided then and there that I didn't like any of them. But Nell was right, after pushing two babes out into the world, the afterbirths were easy and I barely noticed them, because I was so caught up in the babies.

Nell placed Sophie in my arms first and she squalled and shrieked and generally let us know that she was not pleased with her new accommodations. Then Henry was in my arms and I could only stare at these two miracles and wonder that they had actually fit inside of me. At least now I knew why I had been as big as a cow and had the appetite of a bear.

"We'd best let His Majesty know, or he'll be knocking down that door," Bess said and the women laughed. I even smiled.

"Wait," I said. I looked at my mother and the queen. "I...I don't want Edward to know that there are two of them yet. Please?"

"He'll know soon enough, Isabella," Mother said.

The queen, however, understood. "You want to see what his reaction is when you present him with his daughter."

I nodded, somewhat ashamed. Then Nell cackled and the other women joined in. "A right good joke to play on the man, and him making such a spectacle of himself worrying about you." Nell smiled. "Though in truth it does my old heart good to see how much he loves you, lamb."

"I know he loves me," I said. "And I know he'll love our daughter, but I just...I need..." To my horror, I began to cry and my mother pulled me into her arms, babes and all. Gently, she wiped away my tears and kissed my forehead.

"There, there, my love," she whispered. "You're exhausted and if you want to present him with your daughter first, then that is how it shall be." She looked at all the women and waited until they nodded t heir agreement. As one, they all nodded.

"Nell, take him," I said, holding up Henry. I settled Sophie in my arms and bade them to have Edward informed by messenger that the babe was born. We shared conspiratorial whispers while we waited for him. It did not take long for the door to be flung open. Edward stood there, his hair on end as if he had been pulling at it, his tunic askew and his eyes red.

Of course, Sophie was crying again, and quite loudly. I raised her up a bit. "Your...daughter," I said and watched his reaction. I saw nothing beyond awe and pride and...love. He kissed my cheek, but his eyes did not leave Sophie.

"Thank you, my love, thank you," he whispered fervently. "Might I hold her?" I placed her in his arms and watched him and I knew. He loved me, truly loved me. And he loved our daughter. "She's...she's perfect," he murmured. "Absolutely the most perfect baby ever born."

Even though I already knew the answer, I asked him anyway. "You are not disappointed?"

He smiled and said, "Who could be disappointed in this?" Then he kissed Sophie's cheek.

I grinned at him and nodded at Nell, who brought forth Henry. He looked at Nell. "And what have you there, Old Nell?"

"I have your son, Your Majesty. Your wife is safely delivered of twins." She gestured toward Sophie. "Your daughter, of course, must needs come first and fair pushed her brother out of the way in her haste. I suspect you shall have your hands full with that one."

The look on his face was one I knew that I would never forget. It was the look of a man who has every wish, every dream, every hope granted in a single day...a single moment.

And everything was just as it should have been.


	21. Outtake: The Queen and I

I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephenie Meyer. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

_**Author's Note: I must apologize for the delay. My mother died last Thursday and I just haven't felt like writing. Not to mention that I am an only child and all of the business of taking care of her things has fallen to me. So I must ask your indulgence. I will be updating my other stories and writing the last outtake for this, it just might take me a little longer.**_

**Outtake: The Queen and I**

He had known he would find her in the library. It was her favorite room of the musty old place that he still thought of as his parents' home. They would have their own residence, a place in the city that was not nearly as palatial but almost as old. It was a very good thing that Sarah appreciated antiques, he thought dryly. She was standing in front of Queen Isabella's portrait, studying it as she so often did. He walked up behind her and put his arms around her and placed a soft kiss on her neck.

"Oh Ian..." she breathed and then giggled when he bit her ear in retaliation. "Oh...it's you, Alex..." She turned to look up at him with laughter in her brown eyes.

"That's just very, very wrong," he teased.

"Wait, I'm starting to remember," she said. "Aren't we getting married the day after tomorrow or something?" 

"Or something," he replied dryly.

She pulled him close and kissed him deeply. After a moment, they pulled away to breathe. "You know, your mother will kill you if she finds you in here with me," Sarah noted dryly.

"Good thing you're not expecting her then, isn't it?" Alexander replied.

Sarah sighed and ran her hands down his chest. "Yes, I hardly expect your mother to show up here at..." She glanced at the clock on the desk. "Three in the morning." Sarah tilted her head back and looked at him. "Can't sleep?" Her fingers brushed back his messy hair and Alexander shook his head ruefully.

"No, I seem to have a certain redhead on my mind," he told her. He cradled her face in his hands. "Are you ready for, well now it's tomorrow, isn't it?" he asked.

"I'm ready to be your wife," Sarah said. "And I'm ready to start being ready for all the rest of it." She rested her head on his chest. "I came down here to have a talk with old Bella."

That was what she had dubbed the portrait of Queen Isabella. For some reason, Sarah was fascinated with Edward the Wise and his queen. Alexander smiled when he thought of the gift he would give her tomorrow – a small collection of letters that had been written between the couple. He knew she would be thrilled with both the historical value and the insight they contained.

"And did you two ladies have a nice chat?" he teased.

Sarah nodded. "Oh yes, the Queen and I had a good gossip. She warned me that loving a Masen man has its difficult moments, but all in all, you're worth it. She said that aside from your pig-headed arrogance, you're actually quite trainable."

Their lips met and soon Alexander felt his body responding as it always did to Sarah. While they had made love a few months after they met, they had both declared a sort of moratorium on sex in the month leading up to the wedding and he was frustrated and more than ready for the wedding night. The feeling of Sarah rubbing her body against his and her little moans told him that she felt the same way. Alexander pulled away with a loud groan. "Tell me again why we thought no sex was a good idea?" His voice was raspy and husky.

"Something about keeping the wedding night special or some shit like that," Sarah muttered.

"Ah, there's my girl," Alexander murmured. "I was wondering if she was still there beneath all the proper skirts and manners my mother has pounded into your skull."

"Only for you would I endure that torture, not to mention the endless teasing from my brothers," Sarah grumbled, her mouth pulled down in an adorable pout.

"And I'll be forever grateful that you're willing to put up with all of the trappings," he whispered, moving his lips along her throat.

Sarah gave a shuddering sigh. "Yeah, but look what I get in return..." She arched against him, rubbing against the hard cock that was pressed to her. Alexander pulled away with a regretful sigh.

"We'd better stop now, or I'll have you bent over that desk and be buried inside of you in about two seconds," he threatened.

Sarah giggled and shook her head. "I think I'd like finding myself bent over that desk," she teased.

Groaning, he put a little distance between them and took a deep breath. "Okay, so this was a monumentally bad idea," he muttered, running his hands through his hair. "You, Sarah McKinney, are a troublemaker and a tease." He gave her a stern look.

"I think that's why you love me," she said airily. "And don't deny that you've got a thing for mouthy, redheaded, American girls."

"I've got a thing for you," he said, and put his arm around her, placing a kiss on top of her bright head. "So...onto a safer topic, shall we? What were you and Old Bella talking about?"

Sarah sighed and leaned into him. "I don't know...I guess I was just telling her that I was feeling a bit anxious about everything. You know, the endless etiquette, the rules, the feeling of living in a fish bowl..."

"Sleeping in the same bed_ together_ every night, hopefully having a few little princes and princesses running through the old family palace," he reminded her.

"True," Sarah said and she bit her lip as she looked up into the serene, beautiful face of the woman who had been her soon-to-be husband's ancestor. She took a step forward. "Do you think she felt the same way, sort of overwhelmed by it all?"

Alexander stepped behind her and wrapped his arms around her. "I imagine she did," he said quietly. "She was just the daughter of a northern baron and really nothing in her circumstances could have indicated that she would one day be queen."

"I wonder how they met?" Sarah mused. "And did she love him the first time she saw him? Did he love her? Was it difficult for them to make it work, him being a king and her being...a nobody?"

"She wasn't a nobody," Alexander countered. "In fact, I think if we were able to ask him, he would have said she was...everything."

"You're really good with words," Sarah said. "But I'm starting to freak out here. I'm not sure I have what it takes to...be...you know...royal and all that stuff."

"Well, I had wanted to wait to give this to you, but I think maybe you need to get it now," he said.

Sarah looked up and wriggled her eyebrows at him. "Are we gonna do it in the library? Because I've gotta tell you, I like how you think."

Alexander laughed and shook his head. He released her and went to the desk and opened a lower drawer. He withdrew a small packet of old parchments bound with a ribbon which he extended to her. "Here," he said. "This was supposed to be your wedding present, but..." He shrugged. "I think you might feel better if you read them tonight."

Curious, Sarah untied the ribbon and studied the parchments for a moment. Then she looked up at Alexander with wide eyes. "Are these...?"

He nodded.

"Holy shit!"

"Holy shit indeed," he said, clearly amused.

"No, I mean, are you allowed to give me these? Am I supposed to touch them?" She looked worried and he could not help but kiss her again.

"Yes and yes, they are yours," he said.

"But they've got to be part of some official government library of documents or something, don't they?" she asked.

"Actually, these are the property of the Masen family, so they are mine to give as I see fit, with my parents' permission, of course," he said. "Which has been asked for and given," he added when he saw her start to protest.

"Oh my God," she breathed. "So these are like...mine?"

"Yes," he replied.

She squealed, jumped up and wrapped her body around his, showering kisses all over his face and neck. "You are the best husband in the history of husbands and we aren't even married yet!"

"You know, I didn't get this kind of reaction when I put a five carat diamond on your hand," he noted dryly.

Sarah was still busy pressing kisses to his face. "Yeah, yeah, you gave me a pretty rock, but this...this is...whoa..."

"If I had known a bit of musty old parchment would get this reaction, I would have whipped them out the day we met," he teased.

"And you would have gotten laid the day we met," she retorted and clutched the letters carefully to her chest.

"If only," he muttered, remembering the merry chase she had led him on in those first months.

He led them to the small settee that in front of the hearth. He sat down and pulled her into his lap, where she settled comfortably. "Okay," he murmured. "Let's see...ah, here it is." He held up one parchment. "This letter was written to her when he had to make a journey and Isabella was left behind due to being quite close to delivery with one of their children, actually _two_ of their children as it turned out. It's the best of the lot."

"Read it," Sarah urged breathlessly.

Alexander scanned it, muttering under his breath. "There's a lot of practical stuff like order more wine, blah blah blah, but then you get to the mushy stuff."

"Mushy stuff? Is that like a technical term?"

"Most definitely," Alexander assured her. "This is where the personal stuff starts." He cleared his throat and began reading.

"_...my dearest love, I was most relieved to hear that you are still feeling well and the burden of our child does not trouble you too much. However, please remember not to overtax yourself. I shall be most displeased if I return to see shadows under those lovely brown eyes I admire so much. Being away from you for so many days, nineteen and counting, has been most difficult. My bed is empty and cold, which is quite bad enough. But what I miss most, I confess, is the sound of your laughter as you tease me about my arrogance, the sight of you across the chess board as you soundly trounce me, and the sense of anticipation as we share our evening meal with the children and I know that soon, very soon, I will have you all to myself._

_I fear I sometimes forget to tell you how very much I love you, Isabella, and how empty my life would be without you. It is difficult to imagine that I once thought love had no place in a marriage, for now I cannot fathom a union without it. You have made my life worth living, given me something I never dared to dream even existed. _

_So for that, my love, I want to thank you. _

_As you noted in your last letter, we have not yet discussed names for the new little one. I must insist that you give me another daughter, so I shall only consent to discuss names for girls. And since I am your sovereign, I know you will indulge my wishes. We have three sons, which I think does more than enough to ensure the Masen line. So, a daughter is in order. Given your size the last time I laid eyes on you, I think it might be wise to entertain two names. We have been surprised once; I do not think it is outside the realm of possibility to be so surprised twice. Though I must say, you look as beautiful to me now as you did the first time I saw you in that garden. So please set your formidable mind to the task of finding suitable names – girls' names if you please, and two of them just to be safe. I do have one suggestion. I have always been fond of the name Elizabeth. If you find it to your liking, perhaps we can make use of it._

_You may tell Sophie and Henry that I have a surprise for them. I have purchased new horses for both of them. Do not fear, the horses are well trained and our children are excellent riders, just like their mother. They are so grown up now, and I fear that I shall soon have to install Sophie in that tower I threatened to build so many years ago. Richard will probably pout when he sees Henry's new horse, but his hurt feelings will be soothed when he sees the sword I found for him. There is a smith here in this province that does the most exquisite work on weapons I have ever seen. I am endeavoring to convince the man to relocate to the capital. Actually, I am putting my powers of persuasion to work on his wife, who obviously make the decisions in that family. I can commiserate with the smith. And I can see you rolling your eyes at that statement. Also, John's tutor has written me and advised me that our son is up to mischief again. You might need to remind him of our little chat about how a gentleman should act. Or better yet, threaten him with his Grandfather Charles if he persists in his misbehavior. I am convinced that John not only looks like your father but has his spirit as well. And that, Madame, is all your fault. Though I love you none the less for it._

_Well, my love, I want to give this to the messenger so that it might be all the sooner in your sweet hands. Take care of yourself and of our child – or children if that is the case. I love you and miss you more with every passing day._

_Your loving husband,_

_Edward_

Sarah sighed and put her hand over her heart. "Wow...you've got a lot to live up to, Mr. Masen."

Alexander took the letters from her hand and placed them on the table and then he rolled, tucking her beneath him on the settee. "I shall do my best," he promised as he cradled her face in his hands. "How did I get so lucky?" he breathed.

Sarah looked puzzled. "How did you get so lucky? Excuse me, but aren't I the one marrying a prince?" Her voice was gently teasing.

Alexander shook his head. "See, that's just it. You don't care about that part of me," he said, tracing her lips with his thumb. "You love_ me_, Alexander Charles Edward Masen, not Prince Alexander, not the future king...just me."

She pulled him even closer. "Oh baby, that was the easy part, believe me."

Their lips met and neither of them was aware of the door opening slightly or the presence of another. The queen took one quick peek at her son and his intended bride, locked in a hot embrace on the settee and abruptly withdrew. She pushed her husband away from the doors and shushed him when he started to ask questions.

She took his hand and kissed it. "The kids are in there," she said. "But they need some privacy."

The king quirked one brow at her in question. "Really? I guess the boy really does take after me," he said and gave his wife a sensual glance that had her cheeks heating in response. Then he assumed a stern air. "They're not supposed to be in there doing...that."

"Just like we were not supposed to be in your father's office doing what we were doing the night before our wedding either," she reminded him.

He snorted and pulled her in close before placing a blazing kiss on her lips. "We Masens are a rather hot blooded breed, aren't we?"

The queen laughed and kissed his throat. "And I'm sure that Sarah will be as grateful for that as I am for you."

"Come on, woman," he ordered. "Take me to bed and express your gratitude."

"Hot blood and arrogance," she muttered.

They laughed, walking in hand-in-hand back to the royal bed chamber.


	22. Outtake: Mine At Last

I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephenie Meyer. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

_**Author's Note: And this concludes the tale, though I must confess that there might be an outtake or two that shows up in this thread eventually. I have some ideas scampering around inside my head, which is always a dangerous thing. Thank you all for your kindness. My mother's death is very confusing for me, as our relationship was trying at best. My grandparents raised me from the age of ten and there were always a lot of unresolved questions that now will never get answered. Oh well, I digress and whine. Anyway, thank you all. So much. Your kindness meant more than you can know. But she was, and will remain, the Dragon Lady. Yes, that was what she wanted my kids to call her. No old-fashioned "granny" for her! **_

**Mine... At Last**

Carlisle was not a man given to nervous pacing. He had weathered the storms of life with what many would call an admirable sense of calm and serenity. He did not tend to pull at his collar, nor did he often wipe sweat from his brow. In almost every situation, he appeared to be cool and composed and utterly nerveless.

No one would have suspected that beneath that tranquil exterior beat the heart of a man who was almost sick with love...and had been for almost four decades. Far from wearing his heart on his sleeve, his had been tucked away in his tunic, hidden from prying, curious eyes. He had come to think of himself as an emotional eunuch.

All of that was about to end. Tonight.

If Edward wanted his mother to marry and find happiness, then Carlisle would oblige him. It was only sheer good fortune that the king's wishes and Carlisle's own so closely meshed. They had been halfway through the journey that the king, Esme's son, had so obligingly arranged, when it had hit Carlisle.

Edward, that clever, clever boy, had manipulated him. And his mother. Hell, Edward had put them all where he wanted them on the chessboard and simply sat back and watched the game unfold exactly as he had predicted it would. That realization brought a moment of chagrined pride. The boy had learned his lessons well- perhaps too well.

But Carlisle would not argue the point.

Tonight, he intended to put aside almost forty years of silence and make his feelings and intentions clear. Esme would know his heart, and what happened from there would be up to her. The door opened and Carlisle immediately ceased his pacing. He could only stare for a moment at the vision in his door.

This was the Esme that no one else saw.

Her hair fell to her shoulders in muted waves of brown and honey, an alluring streak of silver here and there. A demure night rail clung to her body as she moved, providing tantalizing glimpses of the body beneath. "You came to me," he whispered, closing his eyes briefly as a fierce sense of triumph flooded through him.

Her hands clutched nervously at the thin skirts of her gown and she looked carefully at the fire. "I almost...did not," she admitted. Then her eyes skittered up to his and she gave him a shy smile. "But then I found my courage, and here I am." She tilted her head and studied him. "Tell me, Carlisle...am I welcome?"

He moved to her then, unable to keep from touching her. His hands tugged her close as soon as his fingers closed over hers. He simply held her for a moment. "Always," he murmured. "Forever." Carlisle leaned back and brushed his knuckles over her cheek. "I've something to say, and I need to get all of the words out before you interrupt or ask questions or make any observations." He smiled. "Can you do that for me?"

"I would do anything for you," she whispered. His heart thundered in his chest.

He pulled her to a large chair and settled his long frame on it before playfully pulling her into his lap, where she settled without a protest. She rested her head on his chest and closed her eyes, sighing in contentment as his hands began stroking over her hair. When he began speaking, the sound made a soothing rumble in her ear and she snuggled closer.

"I've loved you since you were eight years old and called me a horse's arse," he said with a chuckle. "You stood there in your father's stables, muck on your gown and hay in your hair and I told you that you looked like a peasant." She laughed softly. "And that was when you called me a horse's arse and claimed my heart." Esme made a sound of agreement. "But I knew that what I felt for you would not be encouraged. You were of a much higher station than me, and when your marriage was arranged, I almost took the opportunity to take myself out of your life." She started to speak but he gently brushed a kiss over her lips, stilling her protest. "But in the end, I could not do it. I could not tear myself away from you. So I went with you. Not knowing if you were happy would have been a far worse torture than seeing you become another man's bride...at least that is what I told myself." He sighed and pulled her close. "I tried to pretend that my feelings for you were a fleeting thing, a passing fancy, but I knew..." He held her close. "I knew that was a lie. I was yours...forever and irrevocably."

She leaned up and kissed his jaw.

"Then I told myself that I would suffer in silence and keep my love to myself," he said. "And I did, for many years. I served your husband loyally and faithfully, because in serving him, I served _you_. Then your husband died, and I kept my silence still. I have looked after Edward, because I saw in him the son I always wished _we_ had had. In the past year, however, I have lowered the walls somewhat, allowing you a glimpse into my feelings for you. I have taken many liberties that a gentleman should not have," he admitted with a small smile. Esme laughed quietly but did not speak. "But I do not believe my attentions have been repugnant to you. However, I have not allowed myself that final liberty, because I would not compromise you that way, my beloved. It cannot come as a surprise to know that I love you, Esme, and I always will."

Her eyes were shining when she looked up at him.

"And I want to marry you, protocol and tradition be damned," he said fiercely.

"Yes," she answered.

"What?"

"Yes," she repeated with a slight smile. "Yes, I will marry you."

"You will?"

"Of course, I've loved you ever since you told me I looked like a peasant," she informed him with a caress.

His lips found hers and she moaned and abandoned herself to the feeling of surrender. Finally, he dragged himself away from her mouth, panting and aching. "What if Edward objects?" he asked breathlessly.

"I hardly think he will arrest either of us," Esme said dryly. She cradled Carlisle's face. "Besides, Isabella has gentled him with her love. He is becoming the man I always knew he could be. He will be happy for us." Then her smile widened and looked positively mischievous. "He'll fuss and pout for a while, but he will recover. Besides, I've always found it easier to ask for forgiveness than for permission."

Carlisle felt his heart stutter in his chest. Could she mean - ?

"What are you saying?" he asked, hardly daring to hope.

"I am saying that tomorrow we locate the holy man and take our vows, then present our marriage to my son as a _fait accompli_," she said with a wink. "Besides, he'll be so busy preparing for the arrival of his heir that his mother's marriage will not command his full attention. He will be quite distracted. Timing is everything, as you well know, Carlisle."

Carlisle laughed delightedly and crushed her to him. Every thundering beat of his heart, every roaring whisper of his pulse shouted _"Mine!"_ and he could hardly comprehend it. "I think that I might have gotten myself quite a vixen," he teased. "At last..."

She tugged at the ties of his nightshirt and shoved aside the black velvet of his robe. Placing an open mouthed kiss on his chest, she laughed softly. "Vixen indeed, my love, and now I should give you a little demonstration..."

Carlisle groaned and his head fell back as Esme provided him with some insight.


	23. Outtake: Twins, the Sequel

I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephenie Meyer. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

_**Author's Note: I'm baacckkk! I took my boards Monday and passed without a problem, so I think my life is mine again. :p Whew! Anyway, I'll be getting caught up on several stories, though I still have three weeks of school left. Thank you for your patience and support. It's been wonderful!**_

**Twins, the Sequel**

I watched with some concern as Isabella lurched from our bed and threw herself toward the chamber pot. She had not even tried to make it to the privy. "Isabella?" I asked in between the sounds of retching. I slid from our bed and knelt beside her, pulling her hair back and placing a steadying hand on her shoulder.

Finally, she wiped her mouth and leaned back against me with a groan. "By the gods," she muttered. "It must have been the fish." Her lashes fluttered as she looked up at me, still appearing dazed and ill. "It tasted odd last night. Didn't it?"

I could only shake my head. I too, had had the fish, and I was feeling just fine. In fact, the children had had the fish as well, and none of their servants had knocked on our door to alert us to the fact that the children were ill. And they most certainly would have done so; they had done so every time one of the children fell ill, whether with some childish complaint or something more serious.

"I do not think the fish was bad, my love," I said. For a moment, my mind created all sorts of horrific scenarios. Some growth in the belly that would suck her life away, some plague that would steal her from me – all of these fears tormented me. But a nagging sense of familiarity struck me as I cradled her.

I had cradled her just this way many times. More times than I could count. And each time I had done so, she had been growing a child in her womb. Suddenly, it occurred to me that she had not complained of belly pains for almost two months. Nor had I rubbed her back to help her sleep.

At first, the thought of another child sent a surge of joy through me. Then I realized that with four children already, we might be daring the gods to ask for another. Isabella was older now, though of course I would never say so. We had three handsome, capable sons and beautiful headstrong daughter. I could ask for nothing more and in fact, we had taken precautions against just such an event.

An event that it seemed would go on whether we wished it or not. I grimaced. The timing was...challenging. The twins were now sixteen years old and our Sophie had set her mind to marrying. The son of an ambassador had caught her eye and now nothing would do but that she must have him. Whilst I tried to convince her that he was not of sufficient rank for her, Isabella had dismissed my arguments, saying that his rank should not matter and only his feelings for our daughter were of any account.

I had a feeling that I was going to lose the battle, and if I was being honest, I would not mind too much. The young man was willing to live here, thus sparing me from bidding farewell to my only daughter. Royal or not, it seemed that Sophie would have her Carlos. I could scarcely believe that my Sophie was old enough to wed, though as Isabella pointed out, she had been the same age when _we _married. I could not see what that had to do with anything.

Which brought me back to my wife. Here we were, most likely about to see our daughter wed, and, it seemed, about to welcome a new child. This had certainly not been in the plan.

"Isabella, my love?" I asked, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. I kissed her damp cheek. "How long has it been since your link with the moon was broken?"

She stared at me for a moment, opened her mouth as if to speak, and then closed it again. She closed her eyes and moaned. "No, no, no...it is not possible. I took my potion every single day. I swear it!" She clutched at my arms. "You believe me, don't you?"

I laughed and pulled her to her feet. "Of course, I do," I assured her. "But even your mother told us that it is not always completely effective." I put my hand on her womb, trying very much not to let her glimpse my very real – and growing – fears. "It would seem that this baby is quite determined to be born into this world."

Isabella leaned against me. "Oh Edward, I am not sure I am prepared to do this again."

I could not help but agree, but I was determined to wear a brave face for the duration. She would never suspect how much I feared for her. I was a man and a king, and I would conduct myself as such, if only so that I did not convey my fears to my beloved. I would worry and pray in private, and keep my brave face. It was the least I could do.

_** ~Duty~**_

We were almost a month away from the birth and I could only watch Isabella's expanding form with an awe that approached terror. I held fast to my belief that we were having two babies. Isabella argued with me over the point, but I got the impression that she did so to be contrary, not because she thought my notion false.

Our daughter had been safely married two weeks ago and they were due home from a progress in two months. The people had been enamored of the idea that a royal princess had married the son of an ambassador. I had even heard a rumor that "the Masens were mad and married for love...of all things!" I had chuckled and considered it a compliment.

Still, the last few months had been challenging. Isabella had worried me, rushing around making preparations for the wedding. I had taken a progress in the middle of her pregnancy and she had been most annoyed with me when I insisted she stay home. Luckily, Sophie had begged her mother to remain behind as well and help her. Since I knew Sophie was perfectly capable of doing almost anything, it was clear that Sophie shared my anxieties.

I had spent many weeks now with a vague sense of both dread and anticipation gnawing at my innards. Really, a man should only have to deal with so much and a very pregnant wife, a daughter's wedding, and the pranks of her three brothers were simply too much for me to handle.

As Sophie's marriage day approached, her brothers had stepped up their efforts to torment her, perhaps mourning the fact that she would soon be living in her own home and be considered an adult, whilst they would still be, for all intents and purposes, under our thumb.

Sophie, never one to suffer in silence, had retaliated in kind and then some. The halls of the castle rang with their shouts often. Carlos seemed to be perfectly capable of restoring peace and nothing seemed to get the best of him. Watching the two of them, I realized that he was the perfect husband for my headstrong daughter. He might not have been what I had in mind, but he was just what she needed.

Isabella had given Sophie the recipe for the Swam family potion a few months ago and I had had a talk with Carlos, who had blushed so fiercely that I had wondered for a moment if the boy had caught a fever. Since his own mother had died in childbirth, he had been especially grateful. I knew that he would not push Sophie to produce a child every year. Beyond that, I chose not to think of such things in connection with my little girl.

That morning, I had made sure that Isabella slept late. This pregnancy, more than the others, had exhausted her. Bess had assured me that all was well and Isabella's pregnancy was progressing as it should. I remained anxious.

I was sitting at my desk, going over various petitions. My door opened and Isabella peeked in, a slight smile on her lips. I put down the parchment and held out my hand and she waddled toward me. Gently, I settled her on my lap and inhaled the sweet scent of her hair. "I was just thinking about you," I murmured, placing my hand on the large curve of her belly. "And how are all my girls today?" I teased.

"There could be boys in there," Isabella muttered. "_A _boy, I mean. One little boy."

"Too late, my sweet," I said with triumph. "Even you must admit that there are two of them."

She made a face and stubbornly shook her head, but I could only laugh.

"Fine," I said. "Be mulish," I added. "It won't change the fact and I'll be proven right in the end."

She kissed me, soft and sweet and tender. Cradling my face in her hands, she gave me a smile. "How I love you," she murmured. She rested her head on my chest and I could tell that something was nagging at her. I knew her so well after so many years together.

"What is it?" I finally asked, holding her more tightly.

She sighed and buried her face in my chest and I soothed her by running my hands down the silk of her hair. "I'm worried," she confessed at last in a very quiet voice.

I urged her chin up so that I could look into her eyes. They always revealed her most secret thoughts to those who knew her. "About the birth?" I guessed. She nodded after a short pause. I was not sure whether I was relieved or more anxious now that I knew she shared my concerns. She had hidden her fears well over the last months; hopefully I had done no less. I would not indulge in my fears now, especially now that I knew she was anxious. "You are healthy and strong," I reminded her, kissing her lips softly before I continued. "You have given birth to four amazing children with an ease that even Old Nell once said was most unladylike." She gave a watery chuckle at that reminder. "And these babies..." I put my hand on the mountain of her belly. "These _miracles_ will be our last chance to experience that again. We will celebrate that miracle together quite soon." I put every bit of conviction I could muster into my voice. "I promise," I said, kissing her yet again and praying to the gods that I would never, ever break a promise to my beloved.

Isabella looked into my eyes for a moment, probably recognizing my own doubts but keeping her own counsel. "Yes," she said. "We will."

**~~~Duty~~~**

Jasper was striding at my side as I reviewed the troops assigned for the family's personal protection. These guards were the elite of the forces, and being granted a place here was an honor that was not given lightly. These men, above all others, were the final ring of protection for my family, and as such I gave them my respect. These monthly personal inspections were as much for their benefit as mine. They needed to know that their king appreciated their service and sacrifice.

I commended a few men on personal achievements as I walked up and down the rows. I prided myself on knowing each man by name and a bit about his family. One man had recently become a father and I offered him my congratulations, clapping him on the back. He looked so young, hardly older than Henry, and here he was, both a soldier and a father.

Henry was at my side as well, absorbing yet another lesson in kingship. My son was an heir any man would be proud of, and I watched as he too interacted with the men. They liked his open smile, his bluff charm, and his skill at the warrior arts impressed them. My son too, was a soldier and a knight. He had earned the titles on his own. Isabella often teased that for a boy who seemed so quiet off the tourney field, Henry was a bold and reckless force when he was on it. He had his Uncle Jacob's skill with a lance and a sword, and he possessed the keen, analytical mind of his Uncle Jasper. Henry would be a king to be reckoned with when his time came. Most of all, he was a son to be proud of and we were.

It was Henry who noticed the messenger running toward us. He put his hand on my arm to draw my attention and Jasper and I turned in unison.

"Sire!" the young man cried out breathlessly. "The midwife said to tell you to come quickly. 'Tis time!"

I could only gape at the messenger for a moment, though I had been expecting just such a moment for days now. Finally, I turned to Henry and Jasper, who grinned at me and waved me away, effectively dismissing their sovereign. I laughed in response and ran with as much dignity as possible toward our chambers.

I skittered to a halt before I entered, and smoothed my hair and tunic. It would not do to look too anxious. I opened the door and stopped abruptly.

I had expected to find Isabella pacing the chamber, or perhaps a cool compress placed on her neck or face. Instead, she was gripping her knees, sitting up with her legs splayed open and grunting. Loudly.

Bess gave me a harried look. "If you do not leave now, Sire, you will witness the birth!" she warned and shook her head. "Your wife is in a bit of a rush it would seem."

I could only stumbled, dazed, to Isabella's side. She was much too busy to give me much notice, so I tried to stay by her head and out of the way. Bess dismissed me as much as Isabella had and peered between Isabella's legs. It seemed very undignified to me. It struck me that I had never seen one of our children enter the world. I had always stayed where I belonged – in my private study getting drunk with whatever male relative was at hand. I made a move to leave but Isabella's hand shot out and grabbed mine. There was no evading the death grip she had on me, so I nodded to a servant to bring me a chair and I sat down, trying very hard _not _to look down between Isabella's knees.

There were a lot of noises coming from Isabella and I discovered that she had quite a bit of strength in her delicate hand. I supposed that embroidery was more strenuous than I had expected. I was not about to whimper, that would have been unseemly, but I seriously considered it. I contemplated making my guards do embroidery, to help build up the strength in their hands.

And then I was thinking no longer.

Bess was encouraging Isabella and it seemed only a few seconds later, Elizabeth came screaming into the world, sliding into Bess's hands with surprising speed.

"By the gods!" I muttered. Bess efficiently handed my daughter to an assistant, and turned her attention back to Isabella.

"Just as we suspected, madam," Bess said. "The lass was not alone."

Isabella just hunched over and grunted again.

Eleanor was quieter than her sister, but seemed slightly bigger. I could only stare at the two of them in amazement. My hands were shaking as Bess handed them to me, and suddenly, I was the inexperienced man I had been seventeen years ago, when I first held Henry and Sophie.

The girls blinked up at me, Elizabeth still screeching her protests, Eleanor quietly taking it all in.

Isabella flopped back on her pillows after the whole process was complete. She was sweaty and pale and her hair was a wild mess, plastered to her head in some places and sticking up in others. She had never looked more beautiful to me. The birth I had been so anxious about was over and everyone was healthy. Suddenly my fears seemed foolish and I had never felt so grateful to feel foolish in my life.

"Girls," she murmured. "You were right." Then she laughed. "Though it galls me to admit it."

Still cradling our daughters, I pressed a tender kiss to Isabella's damp cheek. "Thank you, once again, for such beautiful children."

"I almost did not make it to my bed in time," Isabella confessed ruefully. "Never have I experienced so swift a labor."

I kissed each tiny forehead. Elizabeth quieted for a moment and then resumed her screams. Eleanor seemed to snuggle closer to me. "They're as beautiful as their mother," I said.

"Enjoy them," Isabella sighed with fatigue. "For I swear they shall be the last."

"You have done your duty and then some," I assured her with a laugh. "Rest...my love. Rest."

Isabella closed her eyes and did just that while I held our daughters, perfectly content with my world.

_**Author's Note:**_

**Also, I have submitted a little something from the story "Bad Blood" for the Fandom Gives Back for Lymphoma and Leukemia. You can read excerpts from many authors here: **

**fandom4lls.**** blogspot(dot)com /p/ author-teasers (dot) html**

**Just remove the spaces! **

**This is a cause that is near and dear to my heart since I lost my grandmother to lymphoma in 1982. I still miss her to this day. **


End file.
